Act I : Trial of a Man
by H7
Summary: What did happen to Link [OOT] after MM anyway? Follow him as he travels, facing hardship after hardship to regain what he has lost, even if it means destroying himself along the way. Dark, Angsty, Crossover, AU.
1. Prologue And Disclaimer

_**Legend of Zelda : Trial of a Man**_

_Prologue and Disclaimer_

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Disclaimer: I, H7, do not own or claim to own anything to do with the Legend of Zelda series, Final Fantasy 8, Diablo 2, Diablo 2 Expansion, the Lord of Destruction, or DrakenGard. All of these games belong to their respective owners. This story is not being typed for profit. It is merely for enjoyment, and an end to boredom.

All of the characters from this story also belong to their respective owners.

If there is mention of a game that is not covered by the disclaimer, then it is merely an oversight. Notify me, and the correction will be made. No great knowledge of Final Fantasy 8 or Diablo 2 is needed to understand this story, the beginning just might be a little more confusing otherwise.

This story basically starts off as a PG-13 type of story, but it quickly shoots to a R rating due to violence, swearing, torture, hints at sexual themes, and some of the later chapters may contain themes that could be considered cruel and or sick. You have been warned.

This disclaimer has been designed to cover the entire story, and as such, the disclaimer shall not be posted at the beginning of the chapters. I _repeat_, the disclaimer will only appear here, on the first page, but it shall cover the entire story. If in doubt, please refer to this chapter for the disclaimer.

Thank you.

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_Three young children sit in a small semi circle before their grandmother, who sits her self down in an old, creaking rocking chair, and looks back down upon them. They all (but one) smile up at her, eyes shining, barely aware of anything other than the fireplace far to their right, the plush carpet beneath their behinds, and her shining, wise eyes._

_"Grandma," one asks, clutching her toy teckite doll tightly in her small hands, "Can you tell us a story?"_

_The grandmother turns to her left and looks at the youngest, a sweet young girl with blonde hair and rosey cheeks, "Of course I can. What story do you want to hear?"_

_"The Hero!" The eldest pipes up, a girl of ten years old, "Tell us about the Hero!"_

_"Psh," the boy child scoffs, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes, "What Hero?"_

_The grandmother turns to her right and stares at the young boy, "Samuel! . . .What _would _your mother think?" She frowns, but the boy remains silent and slowly lowers his arms, his face eventually falling back into a more neutral expression, "There. Now, you want to hear of the Hero, huh?"_

_Two of the three children nod._

_The third just rolls his eyes._

_"A long, long time ago, there was a peaceful land named Hyrule, where the sun shined like gold, and the winds were swift and pure," She paused, looking at each of the three children in turn, "The kingdom there was grand and strong, and it prospered. . .But one day a man with an evil heart reached the Triforce, the relic of the Gods, and his corruption caused the land to fester."_

_"From out of the darkness rode the Hero, a strong, young lad with limitless courage, and he struck down the King of Evil. He was the Hero of Time, and it was he alone who saved the land and protected it from evil."_

_"But one day, the Hero left Hyrule, to search for a friend, and he never returned. Evil came back to the land, freeing itself from its horrible prision and rising, rising to reclaim the world. The people prayed to the Goddesses for the Hero to return, and to save them, but the brave young lad never did come back. . ."_

_"The evil grew so strong that the people changed their prayers, for now, there was nothing else they could do. . .The Goddesses themselves appeared before the people in all their divine glory, and flooded the world so that all the evil would drown. The good people were able to escape the end, racing for the mountains as the sea swallowed up the land behind them."_

_"The land of Hyrule drowned, and the evil was vanquished. . .But no one ever saw the brave Hero again. . ."_

_The youngest little girl sniffed loudly, rubbing at one eye with the back of her hand. Samuel turned and laughed._

_"You don't actually believe that story, do you?" He chuckled, "It's not true!"_

_"Yes it is!" The little girl cried, turning towards her grandmother, "Isn't it?"_

_"Yes of course it is, sweety," She picked the youngest up in her lap, and let the little girl bury her face into her shawl, "It is true."_

_"What happened to him?" The eldest asked, her eyes wide with curiousity, even though she already knew the answer. She had known for years, having heard this story since she was young._

_"No one knows, Alissa, no one knows. . .Some say he became a Hero somewhere else, some say that he perished, died young, and others yet believe that it was he himself that traveled to the Sacred Realm itself, and begged that the Goddesses save our people, but alas, no one knows the truth. For the Hero is not here to tell us himself."_

_"But. . .What do _you _think, Grandma?" Alissa asked._

_"Me? I believe. . .I believe that he was lost."_

_"Lost?" The youngest asked from her spot in the old lady's lap. The grandmother absently ruffled her hair._

_"Yes. . .I don't know to who, or to where. . .But I'm sure that our land lost a great Hero. . .Who knows," She moved her head close to that of her youngest grand-daughter, so their noses touched, "Maybe he still wanders the lands, looking for his way home, still."_

_"Do you think he'll ever come back?" Alissa edged herself a inch closer, "Do you think maybe he's angry at us?"_

_"No. . .I don't think he'll ever come back. And, our world is as much at peace as it has been for many a year. The Goddesses have no need to send him to us now."_

_"Hmph, no need indeed," One of the older men from a table behind them scoffed, and there was a round of chuckling. The grandmother scowled, and the youngest on her lap shifted nervously, somehow feeling embarassed by the situation, though she knew not why. As the brother too joined in, the eldest turned her head away and stared down at the floor._

_Why did her brother have to be such a jerk?_

_All her anger left her in a rush, and her head and shoulders drooped._

_She sighed._

_There was no Hero. Maybe there never was._

_------------_


	2. Chapter I Pained Existence

Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter I - Pained Existence

----------  
  
He waited patiently, and at last the other finally fell asleep, allowing him control of 'their' body. He used the short time he had to go to a place nearby where he could relax and pretend that he was alive again. Life was precious, and his current inability to experience it was slowly driving him mad. He wanted to live, he wanted to love, but those things were near impossible for him now, so he pretended it was he who was in love with a girl who was still alive and that it was he who had the great, commanding job with the high paid salary and friends surrounding him from every which way.   
  
He knew it was nothing but a sham, acting as though he was alive and well and living his own life. For one, he could only do this when the rightful owner of this body was weakened, confused, or asleep. That and he was not disillusioned on the fact that his body was still sealed away. Sealed away where only the hands of someone living and actually existing in the material realm could open the seal and take the stone.   
  
This was the closest he could get to real life. He felt somewhat caged, the other always pushing him back or just by being there could unnerve him. It was like there was always someone watching him. Someone always looking over his shoulder. He knew it was to be expected, but still it bothered him. He had lost out on his childhood, his love life and apparently even his humanity, and still he got no break. Not once in life did he ever get a single break. Never once, since he turned ten, did he even have the time to celebrate his birthday. By Din, a lot of times he didn't even know it was his birthday.   
  
And his friends. He never had any true friends. He was always alone. Even in the mind of another man, a stranger true, he still was alone. The other was convinced that he was just a voice in the head of their shared body. The other, what was his name again? Squall, that was it. Squall was sure that the voice in his head was nothing more than a mental problem, not a man who had faced all the hardships and downfalls (at least it felt like he was) possible and survived, only to be sealed away from life itself. The world was cruel.   
  
He yawned and stretched, having reached his destination. The body itself was tired, limiting the time he had left. He didn't want to exhaust the vessel, especially since the other was now involved with important matters and leadership responsibilities. So involved, in fact, that Squall often became severely stressed and reclusive towards his comrades. So reclusive that in fact he only knew one or two names out of all the people that Squall had associated with, his finacé and someone else. Oh well, the name was slipping from him at the moment. He had tried talking to the boy about it, well, not talking in the true sense of the word, but the other pushed him back and ignored him.   
  
Sighing and sitting down on the bridge he stood upon, he decided it would be best if he tried to appear non threatening to the host, maybe the boy would listen and accept his advice instead of driving himself to an early grave as he was. But Squall seemed to hate listening to voices in his head. Hated it so much that he instead would do the exact opposite. It was a conundrum, indeed.   
  
The water flowed beneath the bridge with a quiet roar, bits of foliage from nearby tropical ferns and other various plants drifting downstream, caught in the strong current. Small glimpses of fish swimming in the shallower areas could be seen, and some brightly coloured birds nested nearby. He could see their feathers as they flew from branch to branch, shaking the leaves with their landings. Their voices filled the air with soft music, pleastant tones that enhanced the beauty of the area. It was usually ignored by those who regularly came here. They were interested in battle, not scenery.   
  
[It's so peaceful here. . .]  
  
A smile appeared on the young man's face, a thing never seen when the other was in control. It looked almost unhealthy, unnatural  
  
[. . .I could die happy. . .]   
  
But he couldn't. If he tried to commit suicide the body would die, killing the other while his spirit would once again be forced to roam. It would not only be cruel to his host but it would also be pointless for him as while his body (his own body, not this current one) was alive, so was he. And he could not reach his real body from here, not without his own physical form.   
  
He opened his eyes, stared down at the water beneath him and scowled at the thought. He was trapped, separated from his body and the land he had come from. The land he was born and raised in. The land that he loved. The land that he fought and nearly died several times for. The land and the people that he had sacrificed everything for and lost it all. He was alone and there was almost nothing he could do about it.   
  
The reason he had even entered this body in the first place was so that he could control the host and free his own body, but. . .   
  
". . .I can't do that, not even after all this time. I can't," he whispered, opening his eyes and looking upwards towards the heavens, even though the ceiling of the place was obstructing his view, "What am I supposed to do? What? What is there left for me to do?" his voice was slightly louder now, his anger pouring out from his lips. He raised his hands slightly, almost in a position of offering, "What is it that you want me to do? Whatever it is, I'll do it. . .Anything, to end this." His hands dropped again, and his gaze lowered to look at the water flowing beneath him, though it was not the water he was interested in.   
  
[How much longer will I be around? When will it end?]   
  
He closed his eyes again and relaxed, taking a shuddering breath. He felt his heart (or what was left of it) quiver as the air passed his lips. The burden on his shoulders seemed to double and he would have done anything to end it right there. Sadness and depression ate away at his soul, striking little pains into his heart. Each stung like a fresh wound, but. . .No, he shouldn't get all worked up about this, there were probably many other people who went through things far worse than he had. He had no right to whine as he did. He mumbled a swift but quiet apology to the Ladies above, and decided he would spend the rest of his time tonight enjoying his 'life'.   
  
He sighed, and the water continued to flow beneath him, in a quiet, but steady roar. His smile had completely faded.   
  
Leaves crunching beneath his boots, the warrior walked up the path, searching for his comrade who had been spotted on his way here. Why couldn't his rival just stay still? But no, Squall always had to be on the move. At least as of late.   
  
He rounded the corner and saw Squall sitting on the bridge, his eyes closed as if he was asleep. He had never seen the brunette here before, and he wondered quickly if this somehow had something to do with their leader's odd behaviour as of late. Their leader seemed to be overly cautious and strangely evasive receintly. The commander would hardly sit still long enough to have a full conversation. It was like he was overactive, but in a way totally unlike Squall. Granted, the teen did too much work for his own good, and he was often distracted.   
  
Shaking his head, he tried to clear his mind, there were things far more important things to think about.   
  
"Hey!" he shouted, but the figure in black didn't turn, " Hey Squall!" he shouted again.   
  
"Hey!" a familiar voice shouted from behind him. He didn't turn, maybe they were talking to someone else. But wasn't he the only other one here? Unless his senses and instincts were failing him, it was only himself and the owner of the voice. Dread settled heavily on his shoulders.   
  
[Oh, please don't let him be talking to me. . .]   
  
"Hey Squall!" the voice shouted again, trying to gain his attention. There was no backing out of this as the man behind him could easily pursue him till he answered. And it would have been very strange, for him to be so evasive. Though they may have been rivals, Squall and the man did speak occasionaly, but they would not go out of their way to talk to each other. Unless it was important.   
  
[Oh great. . .]   
  
He turned and faced the blonde on the other side of the bridge. Squall's rival stood there, on the edge of the bridge, looking expectantly at him. What did he want?   
  
[What's his name again?]   
  
"Hey, Earth to Squall, you alive in there?" the blonde stepped closer, now on to the bridge, and far too close for his liking. The blonde, on the other hand seemed not to care or even notice his dislike of the close proximity.   
  
"Yeah. . .Seifer, I'm fine," he mumbled, stalling to remember the blonde's name. He was just going to leave the answer as that, to discourage any further comments, but then he remembered that he had to act as Squall normally did. Now while Squall was not a conversationlist on any level of the imagination, he had always taken a serious behaviour towards his duty. Whenever anyone would seek him out one of his first questions would always ask his main concern or trouble. Of course, he was always meaning trouble towards the Garden.   
  
[Or that Rinoa girl he likes.]   
  
As he thought, his head somewhat downcast, he looked at Seifer through the corner of his eye. The blonde's hair was as short as ever, and his white jacket was actually white and not torn, as it had been at the end of the recent sorceress war. His scar that ran diagonal down the bridge of his nose so close to his eye was more closed than Squall's was. The red crosses on the arms of his jacket were a bright red again, no longer the eerie dull, blood red it was before. It was in much better shape and was probably a new one entirely. In fact, no one who participated in the sorceress war really changed at all. Heck, it had only been like two years ago or so. Not very long at all, no one had the time to change.   
  
Seifer had only receintly come back to the Garden, being reluctantly given a full pardon for his part in the Sorceress War. The blonde had claimed (and was backed up by two friends of his) that he had no control over the events that took place then. No one was able to come up with any evidence to contridict that, in fact, most people argued that he had not been like himself during that time. With the lack of evidence, it had been decided that Seifer was free to come and go and study as a student there as he pleased. That of course didn't mean that everyone would act towards him as they used to. He was hated by many now, and even the quiet Squall often made a point of being rude and short with the man.   
  
Raising his head, the spirit in control decided that it would be best to play this through the proper way.   
  
"What do you want?" he asked, as cold as possible. The glare in his eyes would hint that he didn't want company at all. Maybe the blonde would take the hint and leave so he could go to bed and let the other take control in the morning. But the chances were against it and he would have to play this through as if he was Squall himself. He was never a very good actor.   
  
Seifer mock bowed to him, "The Headmaster wants to see you, Commander. " This last word was said with such hate and mockery that the aftereffects just hung in the air. The silence was heavy and oppressive, and neither truely wanted to break it.   
  
He just stood up, releasing that same sigh that the other used so often. He was really reluctant to go. One false move and he could mess everything up. He doubted that the other's friends would realize that their friend had a wayward spirit trapped in him, rather they would probably believe him to be insane. He couldn't do that to anyone, especially to someone who didn't deserve it.   
  
"Can't this wait till morning?" he mumbled, trying to get out of this precarious position. If he could just leave this to the other than all could go fine. But if he was forced to do this, then who knew how bad he could screw up? He rubbed a hand down the side of his face. If he 'woke' the other he could be in it for the long haul. The other definately wouldn't be pleased with the idea of being used like this. Even for harmless reasons.   
  
"Nope," Seifer smiled, knowing that Squall wasn't enjoying such a late call to work. Granted he wasn't in bed yet, but he had to be tired. "Heard it was important, can't wait. " The blonde crossed his arms in front of his chest, daring Squall to ignore the Headmaster's orders.   
  
"Damnit. . .," he swore lightly as he walked towards Seifer, and then together the two of them left the Training Center. The way the people swore these days really got to him, and the mere mention of one of these words seemed like a sacrilege. It felt like he was-  
  
. . .well, he felt appalled. Nonetheless, it had to be done, unless he wanted to arise suspicion. He moved to follow Seifer to the elevator, and stepped inside with him. The door shut and with a ping, and the device moved them up two floors.   
  
[Such technology. I remember coming across a few things like this, but never this common or efficent. It's been such a long time.]  
  
After mere moments, the elevator pinged again, and the door slid open, revealing the hallway that lead to the office of the Headmaster. He stepped forward slowly, reluctant to enter. There had to be a way around this. There was no way he could handle the business the Headmaster wanted with him. He couldn't speak the language fluently like the other. Sure, he knew enough for a casual conversation, but the other hardly spoke to his own kind in the first place, making it a hard learning experience. His host being reclusive, and his mind's tendency to wander during boring (which were usually also intellectual) conversations hindered his learning. If he were to speak with the Headmaster, probably to do some kind of report, then he was dead where he stood. He didn't even know how to say this language's version of 'report'. Speaking in the head was one thing as all minds used the same language, but obviously, actuall speech would not and could not be acomplished so easily.   
  
The last door slid open, and he walked into the office. He turned quickly before the door could shut and saw the blonde waiting outside. The whoosh that assured he and the Headmaster were alone caused him to turn around again. Nobody was there, at least not yet, so this could very well be his last chance to find a way out of this. He couldn't just leave, Seifer was outside probably to eavesdrop, and that was the only exit to this room.   
  
He sighed. There was only one way out of this.   
  
[Hey, Squall, wake up. . .]  
  
(. . .Uhh? What?)  
  
[The. . .Headmaester wants to talk to you.]   
  
(The 'Headmaester'?)  
  
[Come on, we haven't all day. . .]   
  
(. . .We?)   
  
With a sudden start, Squall's consciousness snapped back from it's rest and into reality. His surprise was elevated when he saw Cid Kramer, also known as the Headmaster also jump back at his reaction. The Headmaster's brown hair was slightly messed up, and there were dark rings under his eyes. Looked like he had not been sleeping well. His glasses looked old and worn, the paint was chipping off the frames, and they looked bent. Many of the wrinkles on the man's face were more pronounced. He looked years older than he did only a few months ago. Maybe it was almost time that the old man went into retirement. Cid had been studying him closely, probably to understand his lack of response. His first thought came through a still hazy and fogged head:   
  
(What is the Headmaster doing in my dorm?)  
  
It did not take long for him to realize where he was, and the most probable reason for him to be there. Anger flared behind his eternal cool mask. He had to do something about these losses of control before he'd start going around and doing things like killing people in the dark. There had to be a reasonable explanation.   
  
"Squall, are you feeling well?" Cid asked, distracting him from his anger.   
  
"Yes sir," he saluted, biting his lip, "Never better, sir. " A bigger lie he had never stated. 'The voice' was beginning to drive him insane, though that was probably an impossibility. He had to be already there. How else could he have voices in his head?   
  
"If you aren't, be sure to tell me. We can always arrange a little vacation-"   
  
(I don't need-)  
  
[I don't think he means that kind of vacation. Stop being so paranoid, you're not insane.]   
  
"-and you could relax for a while," Cid stated with a shrug, "We can't have our best SeeD and the Commander collapsing from exhaustion. " The old man chuckled. His gaze suddenly turned serious, and even Squall felt surprise at the change in the older man's behaviour. "On to serious business. As you may know, the SeeD test is coming up on the agenda. We need to come up with possiblities soon. Any ideas?"   
  
". . .I think there was a request from Galabadia-" the Headmaster raised a hand to interrupt, but Squall continued before he had the chance, "-but nothing of real importance. My desk is practically bare recently. "   
  
"Hmm. . . .this is a bit of a tight fit. . .," the Headmaster turned away from the young but powerful SeeD, pacing as he usually did during important matters, about the room in tight circles, ". . .What did Galabadia want?"   
  
"Date: April fifteenth, two thousand thirty. Location: Deling City," Cid paced around Squall, listening to every detail and weighing it heavily in his mind. Those who said he was nothing more than a dimwitted figurehead had never seen him when he was at the helm of the decisions, a position that he usually avoided, "Client: Ex-General Caraway. Details: a rogue monster is rumored to be preying on victims in the poorer vicinities. Investigate and destroy any threats to the populace. " Squall recalled with perfect accuracy, standing at attention. Cid stopped his circular pacing when Squall finished, and stared at the floor, his mind not made up on the subject. A hand was raised and stroked the chin, while his other hand was around at the small of his back. He continued to stare at the floor as he asked Squall:   
  
"Requirements?" Cid had been quite the tactition in his day, and those skills helped Garden in ways that the old man himself wouldn't care to admit. He and Squall, old tactics along with new ones, both effective, often gave the students and even the SeeDs the advantage they needed in the life and death situations they regularly faced.   
  
"Request four SeeDs, at least a SeeD level of twenty is recommended. . ." Though Squall was finished, he still looked as if there was more to say. He stood still, hands at his side and eyes straight ahead. He would wait till the Headmaster acknowledged him.   
  
". . .I see," Cid sighed, looking up, "Is there anything else? You look as if you have more to say. . ."   
  
"There was an extra request. It was for, unless impossible, that Rinoa join with us. "   
  
"Caraway's still trying to get her love?" Cid shaked his head, looking downward again, "I don't think he realizes how hard it's going to be. " The Headmaster looked up again, "At ease, Commander. "   
  
Squall relaxed slightly, allowing himself to look around the room. It was the same as it had been since the defeat of Ultimecia, just over a year before. In the eyes of anyone who had not come into it before, they would think it a total reck without a semblence of order. To those who came to the place regularly there was some order, though it was a bit of a stretch to this assumption.   
  
[Not very pretty to look at, is it?]   
  
(. . .)  
  
[You know, if I was actually a figment of your imagination-]   
  
"I think that we will assist Galabadia, but this is not a suitible SeeD exam-" Cid stopped, looking up brightly at Squall. Clearly the little lightbulb had gone up in the Headmaster's mind. His eyes were wide open with his surprise, the beginnings of a knowing smile beginning on his face. .   
  
[-than by ignoring me you would get rid of me, but-]  
  
"We will send the students there and have that as the exam. It's perfect! Since we only have-"   
  
[- I am no illusion. I exist.]  
  
"-six or seven properly trained SeeDs of that level, we will group one of them with each group of students. That they can protect the trainees, and yet allow for the exam! It's excellent!"   
  
[Let me help you. Follow my advice during battle, and you won't lose. I swear it.]  
  
(How can I be sure that I'm not just going crazy?)   
  
"I hope you don't mind, Squall, but since you're one of our best SeeDs, you'll have to help protect the trainees, and possibly fight the monster. Is that alright?" Cid may have asked for his preferences, but he left no room for denial. There was just the illusion of it being a friendly invitation, nothing more.  
  
"Yes sir. " Squall replied, now slightly more focused on the voice.   
  
[Can you stop calling me that? "The Voice". I have a name, and I actually do own a body of my own.]  
  
(Then what is your name?)  
  
[They used to call me. . .Link.]   
  
"Okay, thank you Squall. You are dismissed. Go back to your quarters and try to get some sleep. You look dead tired. We need you in top shape for the exam." Cid smiled gently at him, and he found himself with his usual stoic face on, incapable of any emotion.   
  
[First tip: ask him when the exam is.]  
  
Squall resisted the urge to shake his head and clear the mist that sleep was bringing on him. He was sure out of it today, all because of a certain someone. . .   
  
[Hey! Don't blame me. I needed to. . .]  
  
(What? What did you need to do?)  
  
[. . .Don't just stand there like an idiot. Ask him something or he'll think you really do need that vacation.]  
  
". . .Headmaster, when is the exam scheduled for?" Squall asked, crossing his arms in front of him. Crossing his arms was a kind of defensive position, and now that he was toying with the idea that the voice might be something 'real', he felt like his personal boundries had been breached. True, the voice had been around for sometime now, appearing shortly after Ultimecia was defeated, but he had always attributed the whole matter on there being a lot of stress in his life and his mind was maybe just not dealing with it right.   
  
"Umm. . ." the Headmaster walked over to the nearby desk and quickly flipped through several pages, ". . .Monday, next week. Five days from now. "   
  
"Thank you, sir. " Squall turned an started to leave.   
  
"Oh and Squall," the brunette didn't turn, but looked over his shoulder, "do tell me if you want some time off, understand?"   
  
Squall didn't answer but simply left the room and entered the hallway to the elevator, opening the door with a push of a button.   
  
[What's this thing called anyway?]  
  
(An elevator.)  
  
[Elator? Elavator?]   
  
(Close enough.)  
  
[Hey, where's that blonde guy, Seifer? He followed me here. . .]  
  
(Seifer followed you? Why didn't you tell me? He shouldn't have heard the conversation!)  
  
[Didn't see much point. Judging by the thickness of the doors, it take nothing less than a bloodcurdling scream to be heard and also, what's it matter if he knows?]   
  
(He might tell the trainees about the exam, and we'd lose the element of surprise.)  
  
[But if the students can prepare ahead of time, then they will do better.]   
  
(Being prepared is not a common occurance, I assure you.)  
  
There was a ding, and the elevator door slid open. Squall walked out and headed to his dorm room, passing only a handful of students in the halls. It was almost one o'clock, so almost everyone was in bed.   
  
[But what advantage would the students gain, anyway? You really only said that there was a monster in some city that needed extermination. That's not much information to go on.]   
  
(. . .)  
  
[Going to ignore me again?]   
  
(I guess. . .if the Headmaster asks, I didn't see him follow me.)  
  
Squall, much to his surprise felt almost a mental shrug within his head. He did not dwell on it though, as he turned the knob and entered his dorm.   
  
[I suppose that would work, might not make you look too good, but then again, it was late. And you were half dead on your feet], Another shrug, [Yeah, I know, my fault entirely.]   
  
Squall closed the door, wanting to lock it but unable as no such device was allowed on the doors of the dorms in the Garden. Running a hand down the side of his face, he walked slowly towards the bed and begun undressing.   
  
[You know, you're not so closed in you mind.]  
  
(What?)  
  
[Usually, from what I can see, you shut people out of your life, but in your head, you're quite open. ]  
  
(. . .Do you always talk so much?)  
  
[I haven't talked to another person in lifetimes, give me a break here.]  
  
(So,) Squall sat down on his bed and pulled the blanket over himself, (Exactly why do you 'haunt' me like this, anyway? And how can I be sure that you actually exist?)  
  
[Good question. Maybe tomorrow, okay?]  
  
(Whatever. . .)


	3. Chapter II Morning Person

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter II - Morning Person  
  
~*~  
  
Something soft and gentle brushed over his ear, tickling it. He turned his head farther into the pillow, and promptly fell back into the land of sleep. Again, a soft, feathery object ran down his neck. This time, without turning on to his back, he pulled the blanket up over his exposed neck.   
  
[Hey, I think she's trying to get you up.]  
  
(How do you know it's a she?)  
  
[. . .You're not the only one who likes to sleep in, my friend.] There was a bit of a mental smile, maybe at an old memory.   
  
(Don't be so confident on that last comment, 'friend'.)  
  
The silence seemed suddenly to echo inside his head, and his best guess was that Link had left him. Whether the voice could do that or not was briefly mused upon and just as quickly dismissed. He turned over, the internal conversation having roused him and the realization that if Rinoa (she'd be the only one to dare to wake him up that way) was waking him up, then it must be a little later than he thought. He flipped on to his back and looked at the dark haired girl with still groggy eyes.   
  
"Aren't you supposed to be the resident morning person around here?" Rinoa asked, sitting on the side of his bed. The sunlight shafted on to her hair, making it shine blue a dark blue. She wore her normal blue outfit, the strange dress coat thing covering her black shirt and blue shorts. She seemed to be in love with that sky blueish color. A lazy smile lit up her face as she looked deeply into his weary eyes with her own brown ones.   
  
". . .What time is it. . .?" Squall turned on to his stomache and reached for the small clock on his bed, ". . .Eleven?"  
  
"Yeah, I was starting to wonder where you were," she smiled lightly, her voice pleasant and calm, "The others want to meet with you, something Cid told them about a briefing?" she looked at him with a curious expression, still sitting on the bedside with her hands in her lap.   
  
". . .Didn't go to bed 'till late, business-"  
  
"-With the Headmaster?" Rinoa interrupted, looking rather relaxed, "Seifer said that he saw you go up and see Cid."  
  
(Maybe that voice is telling the truth. . .or maybe I'm further gone than I thought.)  
  
"Squall, what are you thinking?" she asked, catching him staring off into space as he thought over the implications of this 'Link' person being a real being. But if this Link was a real person. . .Then why was he in Squall's head?  
  
(And furthermore, didn't he even mention he had a body of his own?)  
  
"Squall, you didn't answer my question and you're already thinking again," she looked at him with a gentle glance, and he felt himself melt under that gaze, "Please, tell me what you're thinking about."  
  
"I. . ."  
  
(I can't tell her, she'll think I've lost it.)  
  
"I was thinking about what the Headmaster said. Just preparing to brief the others," he lied without the slightest hint of a falter in his voice. Rinoa looked at him, her eyes showing that she didn't really believe that, but she pressed the matter no further. There was an uncomfortable silence, seeming to weigh heavily on their shoulders.   
  
"So, um. . ." Rinoa trailed off, trying to find a way to break the quiet.   
  
". . .You mind leaving? Or at least turning around for a minute?" in response to the strange look of curiousity and slight agrivation and suspicion, Squall continued, "I just need to change. Only need a moment." Sudden understanding flooded her and she complied without hesitation.   
  
"You change? You? You'll never change!" Rinoa giggled as she got up and faced the wall opposite the bed. She held her hands together in the small of her back and swayed slightly, merely shifting her weight from one leg to another.   
  
"Do you have any idea how old that is? And your always bugging me about an outdated humor. . ." Squall mummbled as he stretched and reached up to grab his shirt on a hanger near the window. Pulling the white t-shirt deftly over his head, he turned and grabbed his pants, which were laying on a chair near his bed.   
  
". . .Hmm, I almost forgot that you had humor. It's like non-existant, or something." While Squall was getting dressed, Rinoa on the other hand stared around at the things on Squall's desk and shelves. Mostly books littered this area of his living space, and old reports and statistics rested on his desk in high, organized piles. There really nothing else, nothing that could show that he might have had a life outside of his work. She briefly glanced across the objects that she could see, squinting at them from her position beside the bed. She didn't want Squall to think that she was snooping through his stuff again.   
  
Squall grabbed his jacket and quickly pulled it on over his shirt and grabbed his gloves off the desk. Kneeling down, he put on his shoes and looked up at Rinoa during the tying process, "How much did Cid tell you and the others about the mission so far?"  
  
"Oh, not much. Something about it being in Dollet. . .no, I think he said Deling City. . ." she furrowed her brow in thought, "Anyway, he was quite hushed on the topic. Anything special about the mission?" She turned around even though he didn't tell her he was done, but seeing as no harm was he did not press the matter. She waited as he finished some minor adjustments to his clothing, then they walked out together.   
  
He looked at her, and then back to the hall infront of them, "Can't you wait? We're not that far from the others." She gave him an abrupt smack to the back of the head, and then they headed to the navigational room, Squall meekly rubbing the back of his head.   
  
~*~  
  
Less than five minutes later they stood in the main office, also known as the navigational room, surrounded by the entire group. They all formed a circle, Irvine, Selphie and Zell with their backs to the platform, Squall, Rinoa, and Quistis completing the rest of the circle. They were all facing inward at each other, making it look like they were forming some kind of lax huddle. Squall was sure that if Seifer had been there, he would make cracks about them looking like the goddamn boy scouts or something.   
  
"Well, what's the mission, Squall?" Irvine asked, tipping his hat upward as he leaned casually against the wall. He wore his usual clothing, except his floorduster was now an inch or two short, as Selphie complained about how it truely lived up to it's name. It was often dusty and dirty near the bottom, and the female seemed to get very agitated by this, as if it was a permanent mark. The girl in question cuddled closer to her boyfriend and he openly wrapped an arm around her, bringing her even closer to him. She was snugly pressed into his jacket, almost looking as if she should be suffocating, being that close to him. Her head was hardly visible from within the folds of the clothing, but she didn't protest, and no one even really noticed. She seemed happy and content with Irvine's treatment.  
  
Squall was quite sure that was what Rinoa wanted too. For him to be more open about his relationship with her. He had even been asked several times if he was somehow trying to hide his relationship. Maybe he was treating Rinoa badly this way. He quickly cleared his thoughts and focused on the task at hand. He could discuss it with her later.  
  
"We are to go to Deling City and search out a monster that is preying on the poorer citizens. We are to seek it out and destroy it. It has also been decided that we can use this as the SeeD test, the students will search for the beast and the SeeDs will provide backup. We have four days," Squall finished, speaking the entire time with an authoritive voice that commanded attention. In a crowded room, the brunette could become (if he wanted to, which was rare) the center of attention and hold it with a fierce passion. His tone often left people reeling with a feeling of unchained pride and daring, making them want to do the task at hand. Slackers often became busybodies when under his command. Even now, when he was not even trying to sound like a leader, he had placed some inspiration into the other's hearts. It wasn't much, but it wasn't intended to be. This was just a briefing after all.   
  
[Impressive.]   
  
"So, any ideas on the details, like what the teams are going to be?" Zell asked, raising his fists, "'Cause if we put them together in bad groups," he started swinging at the air, shadowboxing himself, "we'll-"  
  
"-End up with people who would rather argue than work on the task at hand. That's exactly what we want." At Zell's confused look, Squall elaborated, "If they are able to get over their feelings towards each other, then they would make good SeeDs." Zell had stopped shadow boxing and now stood, looking at him without any understanding on his face."Why do you think that you, myself, and Seifer all happened to end up in the same squad at our SeeD test?" realization began to dawn on Zell's tattooed face. His face spilt into an overly large grin, ear to ear.   
  
"Oh! I get it! That's smart!"  
  
"Well, now that we all understand, how about we call this meeting to a close?" Quistis stated and turned to Squall, "Don't worry, Xu and I can work out the squads for you." He nodded, "Alright then, you are all dismissed." Everyone moved to the door and left, except for Squall and Quistis. He was about to leave now that after a brief race, both Zell and Irvine were out, venting their competing spirits somewhere else, but Quistis looked at him with a questioning glance. He sighed and motioned that he was listening. She ran a hand through her hair, despite how tightly it was pulled back. Only the bangs hung down, much like how they used to. Nevertheless, she ran her hand through, looking nervous and worried, as if the prospect of talking ot him was that bad.  
  
[. . .Doesn't talk much, does she?]  
  
(She seems a bit shy sometimes.)  
  
[. . .I feel sorry for those who cannot express themselves.]  
  
(Why?)  
  
[Because they can never let anyone know how they feel. They'll live the rest of their life with regrets.]  
  
"Squall, I was wondering, is there anything wrong? You've been a little. . .well, distant lately."  
  
He looked at her with something akin to curiousity on his face. Distant? When? If anything he was trying to be a little more open (at their 'subtle' requests). He continued to just stand there, crossing his arms and mulling over what she said in his mind. Was he being distant again? He didn't think so, but did the others?  
  
Did Rinoa think that?  
  
"I just thought that it might be. . .wise to let you know. . .before Rinoa notices," Quistis explained, "Didn't want you to be caught unawares."  
  
Squall simply nodded and she left, leaving him alone. He could hear the loud clicking of her shoes as she headed towards the elevator. He sighed. What was he going to do now?  
  
He couldn't send any SeeDs out on any mission requests that he might recieve, they would all be needed for the test in four days. There wouldn't be any leaving of the premises for him, he had to stay in case of emergency. What the hell was he to do for four days? He usually handled the testing and training of students but it was close to the end of the semester, so there was only preparing and studying being done now.   
  
Putting on a slight scowl, he turned away from the door and faced a nearby desk. There was always the training center, and maybe something would come up in the next day or so. He usually found himself so burried in paper work that Quistis and sometimes even Xu had to bail him out. They called it a rescue mission, and every time it happen he would have to agree. It wasn't that he didn't do it until the last minute, it was that he just got too much of the stuff, and it usually came in mounds.   
  
The scowl disappeared once he realized that this could actually be a nice little respite from his work. It would allow him some time in the training center, and some time with Rinoa. A slight smile played upon his lips, then it was almost instantly covered by a frown.   
  
(You said that you would tell me more today. Talk away.)  
  
[. . .I was once, well. . .I fought for the people of my land. It began when I was around ten years of age, and within a very short time, I found out that I was destined for my position. I was destined to fight against an evil ravaging my homeland. So, still but a small child, I followed my destiny and it wasn't long before my troubles started.]  
  
(What kind of troubles?)  
  
[Well, you might not believe this, but. . .I was locked away in a Time rift for seven years. When I emerged from my long sleep, I was told that the enemy had gained hold of our most treasured relic. It seemed that all was or would soon be lost.]  
  
(So what if they had a relic? Doesn't help them with anything but morale.)  
  
[That's where you're wrong. This relic wasn't one of those fake idols of the later years. This one actually had a strong connection to the powers of the Goddesses.]  
  
(The Goddesses?)  
  
[Nayru, the Goddess of-]  
  
(Let me guess, Love?)   
  
[-no, actually, the Goddess of Wisdom. Din, the Goddess of Power, and Farore, the Goddess of Courage. The relic was said to grant the wish of the holder as long as they had all three in balance in their hearts. If they didn't, then the wish would be unbalanced and would tip the equilibrim of the world. In my case, a man gained the Triforce-]  
  
(Triforce?)  
  
[-The relic. That is what it was called. Anyway, the man gained the relic, but he was so obsessed with power that the Triforce split into it's three pieces. One, the Triforce of Power, went to him. The two others went to me and the Princess of the land.]  
  
(Who exactly were you? And how long ago was this? There have not been kingdoms in this land for more than a thousand years.)  
  
[I acted as sort of a. . .paladin, I suppose, for these Goddesses. I was and am still nothing more than an orphan, which could make sense on why the Goddesses chose me as their champion. I mean, how would my future enemies expect an orphan, a child without noble birth, to become their downfall? They were probably expecting some prince or something instead. It was mainly due to the element of surprise that I was able to take down the Evil King's army.]  
  
(You took down an entire army by yourself?)  
  
[. . .Yes. . .There were, people on the sidelines, but. . . no one fought alongside me. In that aspect, I was alone.]  
  
(Now it's my turn to say impressive. That is, of course, only if you are telling the truth.)  
  
[You no longer believe that I am some illusion? A trick of your mind?]   
  
(I don't have the imagination to think up some tale like this. Continue.)  
  
[After the army was defeated, I was sent back in Time to my youth, before everything had started, but still I remembered. I could never regain my lost innocence. I was now alone, seperated from my friends. The ones from before my adventures could not understand why I started acting so strange. The ones from my future no longer knew who I was. Eventually, frustrated with my small world, I went and found the Princess again. Not even she, the one who had returned me to the past, could remember. There was some faint recognition, but that was it.]  
  
(How can you be sure?)  
  
[Her last words to me before I left to find a purpose in life was that 'though we've only been together for a short time, I feel as though I have known you forever.' It is proof enough, in my mind.]  
  
(I suppose it's addequate.)  
  
[I left and headed to another land, accidently going through a transdimentional portal. I didn't even know the things existed. And when I was done there, after defeating an evil creature known as Majora, I tried to head back to my homeland. I could feel that something was wrong and I had to get there as soon as possible. But I couldn't. I could not find my way back. The portal had closed. So I wandered, acting as a mercenary, always searching for a way home. I did this for about a decade.]  
  
(Did you find it?)  
  
There was a bit of a mental shake of the head, [No. I looked for many years, and actually, I did eventually find a portal again. Unwittingly, I lept through it, and landed in a totally different world.]  
  
(What happened there?)  
  
Various mental images swarmed Squall's mind, most likely Link's memories. The images were very brief and fleeting, and though he could get no complete, definate image formed from the quick flashes of the past, there was one thing that he saw a lot. Blood. Over the boy's hands, over the mounds of what appeared to be dead bodies. On his sword. It was everywhere. A chill spread down his spine. Now he could see into the other's mind on occasions, as could Link see into his, but what he saw disturbed him. He had never seen such carnage, awake or asleep, and he was glad.  
  
[Many. . .things. Things that I'd like not to speak of. But there, I fought. . .great demons with unimaginable strength, and won. And when it was all done, I found that my. . .my belief in the Goddesses dimished somewhat. If I was their chosen, their champion, why couldn't I just go home? I still wished for a purpose, but couldn't I have a purpose besides battle? I wanted to return to my world so badly, but. . .I told myself that there were those who had suffered far worse than me. And there are, but still, it hurt. So I left the Choas Sanctuary, where I had fought the demon, injured and tired, and almost immediately met up with the Archangel Tyreal, one of the beings to guide me on this strange adventure.]  
  
(An Archangel?)  
  
[Yes, he was a great help, but he was unable to interfere due to the Laws of Heaven.]  
  
(Why did he want to meet with you?)  
  
Squall could sense confusion and anger in Link's (or his) thoughts. Whatever happened next was the whole reason for Link's current state of existence; trapped in someone else's mind. He tried to give off a feeling of understanding to the being within him, but he wasn't sure if he succeded. It was hard for one who normally had no real compassion or caring for others to show such feelings, and he didn't even know why he tried. The whole story so far was completely unbelievable and could have been fabricated, but it didn't seem that way. He was just beginning to wonder if Link was going into a silence when slowly but surely, Link continued:  
  
[He-he said that. . .during my fights with the demons, their dark magic had tainted my soul, and that. . .I must be sealed away, so as . . .to protect everyone from myself. He didn't want to, he said, but they couldn't survive a fourth Evil ravaging the land. He stated that he was sure that I would not give in to the taint, but his superiors thought otherwise, so, I. . .agreed.]  
  
(And then what happened?)  
  
[I was taken to a place far to the west in that world, and after performing a bloody ritual, they 'sealed me away'. I was trapped by magic restraints, to a large alter, sealed by what they called a soul stone. And I've been there ever since. My soul has wandered, and well, found you. I was once so desperate I was willing to, well. . .]  
  
There was a silence, heavy and unfriendly before Link continued. Squall found himself not particulary wanting to hear the voice's next words. The way he lead up to it, almost seemed to dance around it made him think that it was obviously bad. Link's relucantence seemed to almost ring in his head as he waited for the next piece of information.  
  
[I was going to try to. . .influence you, but I couldn't do it. I-]  
  
(Influence me, as in what? Controlling me, or something?)  
  
There was no answer for a while, and then the reply had a shameful tone to it:  
  
[Yes. I. . .have to admit, that was my original plan. . .]  
  
(Listen, I really don't appreciate people in my head trying to control me.)  
  
[I didn't do it, now did I?]  
  
[I don't know, sometimes I wake in the middle of the night to find myself somewhere other than my bed.) He left that hanging and was sure that the intended effect got across to 'Link'.   
  
[I only do that so that I can feel like I'm. . .]  
  
(Like you're what?)  
  
[. . .Still alive.]   
  
There was again silence, and Link seemed to make no attempt to break it. Squall shook his head and sat down at a nearby desk, quickly scanning the papers on it. The scowl on his face seemed almost branded there, and he made no real attempt to remove it. He wasn't sure if he was mad at what Link claimed he was trying to do, or if he was stilling thinking about what he saw in Link's memories. So much blood. . .He shook his head and looked back down at the papers.  
  
There was a request for a missing person's search.   
  
Someone was asking for SeeDs to shadow his wife, to see if she was cheating.   
  
Another job was to catch a common thief who was receintly going on a petty thieving rampage.   
  
They were becoming the world's cops and private investigators, and he didn't agree with it. Sure, it was money, but they were degrading themselves to simple everyday mercanaries from being the protecters of the people, stoping any renegade sorceresses from world domination, or whatever. . .  
  
Either way, their reputation was quickly going down the toliet.   
  
But what could he do? It wasn't his place to question the running of Garden, it was the Headmaster's decision entirely. The very idea of their downfall in dignity angered him.   
  
Or, at least he tried to be angry, but his thoughts kept going back to Link.   
  
// [If I was their chosen, their champion, why couldn't I just go home? I still wished for a purpose, but couldn't I have a purpose besides battle? I wanted to return to my world so badly, but. . .I told myself that there were those who had suffered far worse than me. And there are, but still, it hurt.] \\   
  
The words reverberated in his head, and he felt somewhat sorry for the boy (voice or whatever). Link was trying not to be selfish, thinking that there were those who went through far worse that what he had. But personally, Squall had never heard of anything worse than what the boy had described. He shuffled the papers in his hands absently as he thought.  
  
The idea that it might be a play for pity entered his mind, but Squall dismissed it. It just didn't seem to fit.   
  
(But to use me to free himself? To take my control, and possibly never give it back. 'Tainted soul' is right. More like corrupted bastard, if you ask me.)  
  
But still something didn't seem right. The way Link talked about his adventures, Squall knew that there was much missing, it was like some strange editted version. Yet from what he caught, Link was a 'good guy', if such a thing existed. Even he, himself, knew that he wouldn't do what Link did. There was a certain point where everything was just too much to handle. He had felt that during the Sorceress War. And during that, there was no fighting of a dark army. He was not all alone (as much as he wished at times he was), there was almost always someone fighting alongside him.  
  
Again shaking his head free of thoughts, Squall began working on a mound of paper work which had developed on his desk during the morning, a small stack by his standards. He worked on the pile until late into the afternoon, slowly shifting through piles of paperwork that seemed to grow quicker than he could reduce. An average day for him in the Garden. Almost.   
  
~*~ 


	4. Chapter III A SeeD's Honor

Broken Dreams   
  
Chapter III - A SeeD's Honor   
  
~*~   
  
"Okay, everybody begin searching!" Quistis' voice rose above the chattering of the crowd, instantly silencing them, "And remember, the quicker the job is done, the higher the score. Now move!"   
  
She stood amongst a group of SeeDs, including Squall, Zell, Selphie, and Irvine, supervising the test. They were north and west of Deling, near the outskirts of the older part of town. This was where the monster had last been 'sighted'. To allow for a wider range of success, the students would be judged upon how many monsters they could kill in the time of the test. Each type of monster was worth a number of points, varying in difficulty. Their target was worth by far the greatest amount of points. Anyone able to kill the monster or assist in the killing was almost assured a passing mark.   
  
To prove the monster's death, some trophy had to be pulled from it. To prove that students only took one trophy per monster, tests would be done later. It was costly, but effective. Each trophy was going to be carefully catalogued and stored so that there would be no bickering about cheating or anything else.   
  
Quistis shifted her weight from one foot to another and crossed her arms in front of her chest. The students searched the fields, coming across the occasional monster. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that was unusally large or strangely powerful or anything. In fact, everything seemed too peaceful. There was almost no need for the medics, and they stood off to the side, looking almost dejected, unneeded, useless, and worst of all, bored.   
  
Once the first squad of students disappeared over a small hill, Squall shouted out the next set of orders. These were not directed at the students, but rather the SeeDs.   
  
"Okay, Zell, Irvine, go keep an eye on them. I don't want this monster getting them offguard." Quistis stood by as he ordered the two willing SeeDs to their positions. He watched them go, and suddenly a concentrating expression crossed his face. It was almost like he was trying hard to think clearly, as one does when their injured or exhausted.   
  
But he wasn't any of those, was he?   
  
She watched as his face cleared, but then he began to look troubled. Walking casually over to him, she was surprised to see that he didn't notice her, not even as she stood and waited. Whatever he was thinking about, he was thinking about it hard. She stood there, and still he did not see her. Finally she gave him a slight poke in the shoulder and he did what she would like to call a 'Squall jump'. In other words, the only surprise he let off was a look in his eyes as they snapped to her.   
  
"Yes?" he hissed. Something was seriously wrong.   
  
"Commander, is there something wrong? You are acting a little odd," she whispered, strangely half hoping he wouldn't hear her. She regretted the words once they were out of her mouth, and that he wouldn't hear her. But he did, of course. Such was her luck.   
  
"No," he sighed, bringing his eyes back up to the battle field, "Nothing's wrong." She could see the lie in his eyes and hear it in his voice, but she questioned him no further. Time would tell if it was really of any importance. She stepped away from him and turned her eyes back to the battlefield. No sign of anything unusual yet. She sighed.   
  
This was going to be a long test.   
  
~*~   
  
[Something's not right. I don't like this. Listen to me!]   
  
He frowned.   
  
[There's something out there, and it's familar to me. If I'm right about that, then the students are in serious trouble!]   
  
There was something about that, making Squall agree full heartily. But what Link had suggested next bothered him.   
  
[Let's go! We have to, they won't stand a chance alone! Give me control, just for a little while and we might be able to save them!]   
  
No. That was his answer, pure and simple. He wasn't giving his control to anyone, how could he be sure they'd give it back? And Link had admitted that he wanted to use his body to get himself free. He couldn't chance that, not for anything. Besides, whatever the threat, Squall was sure they could handle it.   
  
[Are you mad? You don't even know what it is! You don't know where to hit it or what it's attack patterns are, I do! Trust me! Whatever it is, I've fought it before!]   
  
(No,) he replied, (I can't.)   
  
[At least listen to my instructions. Maybe we'll be able to skimp through this. Please, you have to believe me, I'm not going to try anything!]   
  
(I can't chance it. If I lose my body, I could lose everything. And besides, this is probably all a trick. Get me to listen to you? How can I be sure that it isn't some sort of trap?)   
  
[I swear-!]   
  
(-I can't be sure! So shut up! I'm going for a walk, and not to find the monster.)   
  
The voice was quiet as Quistis interrupted his thoughts and even as she was walking away. Squall looked up and caught her attention rather quickly.   
  
"Instructor, I'm going to patrol. I'll be right back," he said as he began walking away. She didn't say anything but stared at his back as he walked off. Any immediate decisions in the nearby area would be made by her until he got back.   
  
Even thought she was fired as an instructor two years prior, Squall had her reinstated after the incident with Ultimecia. This meant that at this test, she was next in rank to Squall, Zell following behind her. Then Selphie, then Irvine (he had passed his test not that long after). God forbid that they have to go down the ladder any after that. Any lower and the trainees themselves would have to take lead, and knowing them with their lack of experience, they'd probably panic and get themselves killed.   
  
He walked in silence, both outwardly and inwardly. Link had shut up. The silence was welcomed, loved, yet strange and uncomfortable. Different. For the while that the voice had been with him, Link had hardly ever shut up, especially as of late. Maybe because he realized that his plan didn't work. Squall commended his reaction to Link's offer, but there was still one problem.   
  
What if the voice was right? That his only way to win this was to let Link have control? From the sounds of the tale that Link had told him earlier, the boy was definately capable. Maybe beyond his own skill.   
  
But he still couldn't do it.   
  
Squall soon found himself on the far side of the search area. He could just see some of the small groups of students as little black specks in the distance. He couldn't even see Quistis from where he was. He thought that maybe those two specks to his right were Zell and Irvine. Several students were scattered about, none of them close enough for him to make up his mind on who they were.   
  
[One of your comrades, a SeeD, is to your right, but the Martial Artist isn't with him. I think the Martial Artist is that person to your far left. Hard to tell, I can't see his face.]   
  
He was surprised at Link's ability to see that far, but he focused on ignoring the voice. He would not let Link know that he was acknowledging him in anyway, especially not for his skills.   
  
Squall started walking in the same direction he had before, to the north. Maybe this wasn't such a hot idea, as Cid seemed to have thought it was. No one had even sighted anything odd, and time was limited. Sure, the test had only started around half an hour earlier, but they couldn't keep the students here for more than the planned two and a half hours.   
  
[Squall? I think you should head back.]   
  
(Why?)   
  
[I just got a really bad feeling and I'm worried about them.]   
  
(. . .)   
  
So Squall continued forward, not stopping or continuing back until he heard the blood curdling scream from behind him several minutes later. He ran back towards the trainees, cursing himself and Link as he ran. Damn voice had to be right.   
  
~*~   
  
Irvine ran over to the area where there presently was an extremely large monster. It was a horrible eyesore, standing over seven feet tall, around fifteen when it stood on its hind legs. It's ugly brown and green mottled hide seemed as thick as battle armor, and the curved horns on its head looked like great piercing tools, though they faced away from it's snout. Saliva and blood dripped from it's gaping maw, surrounded by teeth as long as his index finger. A long, yellow snake-like tongue slid out between it's loose lips, far too long for the length of it's mouth.   
  
Hadn't he seen this in one of his nightmares?   
  
This thing was obviously powerful and fast, but fortunately for them, it seemed very lacking in the brain department. It attacked and attacked and didn't seem to catch on to the idea that if it was going to be surrounded that it should run. The problem was that armor thick hide. It probably didn't feel a damn thing. Didn't really even need to run.   
  
He raised his shotgun as a group of students surrounded it, leaving a little area open so he wouldn't hit them as well. He fired, again and again. He didn't even seem to make a mark on it. Irvine personally thought it didn't even notice.   
  
Meanwhile, the creature lashed out and sent three people, one of which was Zell, flying a fair distance from it's body. It turned and caught one student under it's deadly claws, the sharp talons sinking through the teen's flesh and into the dirt below. The flesh punctured with a sickening popping noise as skin gave way, following with a squishing sound, much like when a person walks through thick mud. Blood filled the wounds quickly, soon over flowing on to the student's back and ran off the sides of his body. His mouth was slack and pain filled his eyes even as his own lifeforce leaked out. His mouth kept trying to form words, or screams of pain, but he couldn't seem to remember how to get his throat to work. The grass stained red and the overpowering scent of blood soon filled the air, making many of the students reel. It had never before been this violent, this sickening. The monster then violently ripped his claws out with a sharp snapping sound, tearing open the trainee's chest and back. Blood splattered on to those who were foolish enough to still be nearby.   
  
Many of the students backed away from the sickening sight, and began using magic on it. All forms of magic were cast upon it, but it seemed to take no notice of any of them, now instead focusing it's attention on some of the long distance attackers.   
  
It's first target was a trainee who was currently attacking it with a lance weapon. Probably doing no more than poking it in reality. Either way, the monster turned and charged this student, who was not ready for the sudden assault. The boy turned tail and fled, but the creature was far faster and caught up to the trainee within a few short steps. It then raked it's claws down it's victim's back, tearing through flesh to bone. The student cried out and struggled to continue running forward, only succeeding in falling down and dying where he lay. It watched briefly it's dead prey drop before turning back to face it's other attackers. As it approached, it treaded on to and over the boy's body. It left it's tracks in the dirty, blood stained grass, marking it's path.   
  
It charged at Quistis, running on all fours at her. She had been distracting it earlier with her whip, and now it seemed to want vengeance. The instructor lashed her weapon out at it, catching one of the horns. Tugging hard, she seemed to hope she could off balance the monster and topple it. She merely succeeded with pulling it's head a little to the side as it barrelled towards her.   
  
"Quistis!"   
  
A strong blow hit her and she rolled out of the monster's path, just as it reached where she had stood mere seconds ago, tearing up the ground as it struck. There was a heavy weight on top of her, forcing her to continue rolling down the slight hill. Around a good thirty feet away from the creature, she and the weight (which a quick glance told her was Zell) came to a stop. He stood up first and gave her a hand, helping her up.   
  
"Sorry about that, but I didn't have time for anything else," he said as he dusted himself off, "I think we've got to find another way to hurt it. It dosen't seem to mind our attacks at all."   
  
"Where's Squall? Maybe he can think of a way to defeat it. . ." Quistis murmered, talking more to herself than to Zell.   
  
"Don't know. I haven't even seen Seifer. Wonder if he's got something to do with this. . ." the martial artist thought out loud, quickly scanning for any sign of either gunblader. Upon not seeing either, Zell shrugged, ran forward and rejoined the fight.   
  
Irvine was currently running from the monster, occasionally stopping and shooting at it, before turning and running again. Several other students followed his example, except they used magic instead of weapons. Either method seemed to leave no mark on the beast's hide, yet they continued to try any way.   
  
Many of the students that were brave enough (or stupid enough) to attack it head on were lucky and were simply tossed aside. Others were disembowled, or decapitated, or simply cut in two. Out of the ten students that were to be tested, four were dead, three were trying to cast magic, while two attacked and one graced the ground, unconscious.   
  
Zell was sure they couldn't win, this thing didn't seem to have any weak points. But still, he fought and bled from the cuts and scrapes on his arms, just fast enough to dodge most of the creature's attacks. A quick graze was gained on his scalp, the crimson flow leaking down his forehead and into his eyes. He raised his arm and tried to wipe it out with the cuff of his glove.   
  
Too bad Rinoa wasn't here. She was with her father. If ever it was, now was the time that they needed such a skilled medic most of all.   
  
He sighed. How could they make it out of this one? It wasn't like a-   
  
A loud gunshot echoed in the the air and the monster reeled in pain. As it struggled to turn and face it's attacker, Zell got a quick glimpse of Seifer, his gunblade ablaze, his eyes lit by an even fiercer fire.   
  
He had no doubt that Seifer had nothing to do with this, after all. A large grin erupted on his face as he ran to Seifer's side.   
  
~*~   
  
[Come on, just a little farther. Come on, they're depending on you! Hurry, Squall!]   
  
He paid no attention to Link, instead concentrating on running as fast as he could. He was almost there, he could even see Seifer and Zell fighting with the beast, the martial artist being more of a distractant than anything. Irvine was off to the side, firing as rapidly as he could. Quistis, though he couldn't see her, he could however hear her whip as it lashed at it's opponent. The loud crack would sound, and after it all other battle sounds seemed so quiet in comparison. Then it would crack again as she attacked, trying to find it's weakness.   
  
What caught his gaze most was the monster itself. It's angry, short snouted, wolf like face was twisted into a vicious snarl. It's teeth and claws were soaked in blood, as were the tips of the large, upturned horns on it's head. It walked on all fours but when attacking raised itself on to its hind legs. It's moss green patches on it's skin looked like decaying flesh.   
  
All in all, he did not like the look of the creature.   
  
[Okay, I know these creatures. Their called Afflicted, and they always remind me of some disturbed. . . dog thing. Anyway, they have these really thick hides that you need specially crafted weapons for. I'm assuming you don't have those, so this is going to be a lot harder.]   
  
(How do I hurt it?)   
  
[. . .I wonder how it got here? Anyway, it's head is it's weak point. The skin there is really weak compared to the rest of the body. The only problem is those teeth. . .]   
  
Squall ran closer, getting close enough that Zell finally noticed him and let loose a loud shout. Everyone looked in his direction, except for Seifer who was far too busy to stop. As it was, Zell had to cut his cheer short as the creature turned towards him and swung one of it's giant claws. He dodged, but just barely, lucky to be alive. He did however, trip over the body of a female student and fell on to his ass, being forced to roll out of the way again, unless he wanted to lose that luck.   
  
[Okay! I got it! Take out his eyes, and then, when he's blind, stab him though the throat. Maybe relate to the others your plan.]   
  
"Irvine, Quistis! Take out it's eyes!" Squall shouted as he ran up to the monster and drew his own gunblade, slicing it upwards over the creature's side. He made sure to pull the trigger while the blade was still in the monster's hide, eliciting a scream from the beast.   
  
[See?]   
  
Squall noticed that his blade did cut the flesh, but not deep enough for the monster to bleed. The leathery flesh was singed, but nothing more.   
  
[The neck is the best spot. The rest's too thick.]   
  
Quistis threw back her whip, and the lashed it forward with all the experience she had with it, and struck an eye full force. Again the monster wailed, clawing at it's face, drawing some of it's own blood accidently. Squall could see the blood leaking through it's deadly claws. He continued runing.   
  
He got near the creature, and brought back his blade for a deadly finishing blow.   
  
[NO! Not yet! Wait till his other eye is gone!]   
  
But Squall didn't listen, being forced to dodge to the side when the monster shot a little white ball of crackling energy at him. It buzzed as it past him and hit the ground behind him with a small explosion. He risked a quick look over his shoulder and was surprised to see the ground that he had been standing on mere seconds before scortched and smoking. A heavy burning smell wafted through the air.   
  
(It can shoot things?)   
  
Link didn't answer, he was too busy trying to tell Squall to turn back and let the others get the creatures other eye. He screamed at the Commander to stop and desist and at least wait for when the Afflicted couldn't see, then he'd have a chance.   
  
(Link, shut the hell up and tell me what that shit it shoots is.)   
  
[How the Hell am I supposed to know?! The voice shouted at him, obviously in a panic, I've only been hit by it a few times!]   
  
Squall was somewhat astounded that anyone could survive that, but he let Link continue screaming for patience in his head as he himself still headed towards the Afflicted. Deducing from the rush of the conversation, Squall was quite sure that Link still knew they were headed towards the creature, and was not very pleased.   
  
[Stop! Wait till it can't see! Please, listen to me!]  
  
Squall shook his head slightly and continued approaching the creature. It's former eye now oozed blood and other liquids down it's snout and off the side of it's face. It stopped, neither attacking or defending against the SeeDs and trainees that assailed it and just seemed to wait for him. It seemed almost to care about no one else, as if he was it's sole target.   
  
He didn't get a chance to question this further as he approached the creature.   
  
With a shout, Squall closed the final distance and prepared his strike. Swinging the gunblade he attacked the monster, and was surprised when it's claw moved faster than his eyes could properly see, catching him off guard. Thinking quickly, he leaned as far backwards as he could, the talons of the beast missing him by scant inches. Quickly straighting himself, he was surprised when a powerful blow hit into his back. His eyes opened in surprise.   
  
And he felt immense pain.   
  
The momentium from the blow sent him flying forward, where he landed on his back. He gasped for breath as he lay on the hard ground, feeling the blood trickle down his back. The creature walked over to him slowly, enjoying it's victory.   
  
['Wait', I said. 'Not yet', I said. Now I can say: I told you so.]   
  
The creature towered over him and bared it's fangs, ready to lunge. He could feel the vibrations of it's steps through the ground, and he knew that he had lost this battle. His first, and last loss on a scale so high. And he couldn't even move.  
  
It felt like something was broken.  
  
[Wow, it looks like your dead. I still say-]   
  
(Oh, shut up! You're not being very helpful.)   
  
The blow that would have been Squall's last was diverted as Seifer was finally able to come out of his stupor and distract the creature away from Squall. Quistis tried to go to the Commander's aid, but the creature noticed and blocked her path, even as another blow landed from the remaining gunblader.   
  
Squall tried to get up, several times, but blood loss was already beginning to have effect on him. Dizziness washed over him in waves, his vision blurring. A numbness fell upon him, and he felt disconnected from the world. It didn't matter. Between the group's constant trying to help the wounded, get him out of the fray, and kill the monster, he found himself at his energy's limit. It wasn't long before his world faded into darkness, leaving only the sounds of battle lingering.   
  
~*~   
  
"His last order's were to take out the creature's eyes, so," Irvine raised his gun and took aim, "That's what I'm gonna do." He fired once, twice, three times, and still did not hit his target. Sure he got the monster, but he missed it's eye everytime. If the others were not distracting it so much maybe then he could hit it, but everytime they'd attack it moved. And he was running low on ammunition.   
  
"Maybe I can get Sefie to use stop on it. . .Hey, where is she anyway?" He cast a quick glance around himself. He had not seen her since before the test. Where could she be? He hoped she wasn't among the wounded, the very thought ached in his heart and he found himself more determined than before. The image of her lying in a pool of blood, eyes glazed over with death both horrified him and drove him. He would not see her like that, damnit, they were both going to live! They had to.   
  
With anger pounding in his veins, Irvine fired once more.   
  
He missed again. And Again.   
  
"Fuck! Hold still, goddamnit!"   
  
~*~   
  
Rinoa ran over the hill, towards the sounds of battle, with Selphie in tow. Before they could hear anything else there was a loud roar of pain, probably from this beast that she was hearing so much about. It screeched in absolute agony, a loud rippling noise that seemed to buzz and hum in the air. It was a horrifying sound, filling the heart with horror. It just had some unnatural tone to it that brought a chill to the bones.   
  
Selphie had come to her in Deling shortly after the monster attacked the SeeD's. She had been in a panic, but she forced herself to remain calm. Using one of Garden's vehicles, she arrived quickly and left with the young Sorceress just as fast. Together they drove like speed demons and just arrived now.   
  
Rinoa completed the sprint just in time to see Seifer slash at the beast. He got it in the hind leg, and the beast reared and roared, turning to face the gunblader, even as Zell was pounding it with his fists. The monster turned back to face the annoying martial artist, and Seifer would hit it again. They weren't really doing any damage, but still they tried.   
  
Rinoa did not really care nor pay any attention to all this. She quickly scanned the battle field for her fiancé, and gasped as she saw the figure lying on the ground, still, as if lifeless, in a growing pool of blood. She ran quickly, a gasping Selphie trailing behind her, and she headed right towards Squall. Right into the fray.   
  
~*~   
  
Punching the monster, Zell could only be sure of two things. One, Squall was in serious trouble. Two, he wasn't doing much more than annoying the beast. He had to think of something fast, and unfortunately thinking was not his forté.   
  
He punched the creature again, beginning another combination, but he had to stop half way through.   
  
"Ow! Damn thick skinned whatever you are! OW OW OW!!" he shouted as he grasped his hand, shaking it painfully. He had hit the hide at a horrible angle and twisted his wrist. Damn skin was like rock.   
  
All of Zell's dancing and shouting had caught the monster's attention, and it turn back to face him. He gulped audibly and turned to run, being useless without both fists for balance to dodge the claws of the beast. He began the other way at such a speed that he stumbled and almost fell to the ground. He caught himself at the last moment and sped as fast as he could.   
  
Despite the great speed he was able to attain, the monster ran right behind him and was slowly catching up. Thinking quickly, he made a quick turn to his right, completing a full circle. If he was lucky, he could hotdog his way around the creature. He turned, and almost ran headlong into the monster. Instead of facing it's side like he had planned, so that he could run under it's stomache and escape the other way, it must have guessed his trick. He fell back in surprise and watched in a stunned stupor as the beast moved forward, licking it's chops. It grinned hungrily above him, ignoring Seifer who was attacking it from behind. It focused only on it's prey, and so was it's undoing.   
  
A loud snap was heard through the air, and Zell looked up. The monster's other eye was torn apart, a shaft of some sort sticking out of the gooey mess. Blood and other liquids exploded from the socket, spilling on to Zell, who was unfortunate enough to get an accidental mouthful of the stuff. Telling by the feathered tips, the weapon responsible was an arrow. And there was only one trainee, no, only one person who shot with a bow in any of the Gardens.   
  
"Alicia?"   
  
~*~   
  
Irvine watched simply as a standerby as the next moment passed them by. Rinoa ran towards Squall but was held back by Selphie, as the smaller woman was afraid for her friend's life. Rinoa screamed Squall's name, those yells becoming progressively louder as the beast, though blind, headed towards the unconscious Squall.   
  
(Can probably smell all the blood on him. He doesn't need to see now, Irvine thought, staring at his Commander in the pool of blood, Someone's gotta do something. But I can't. Magic seems to have no effect on it, my gun does diddily shit, and there's too many people too close for a summoning.)   
  
"Seifer!" Irvine shouted, "FUCKING HELL, DO SOMETHING!"   
  
The sharpshooter was forced to merely watch as Seifer attacked the monster, finally getting the creature to bleed by hitting a weak spot in it's underside. It howled in pain, again in that high pitched tone that wanted to make your ears bleed, but the creature used its anger to forcefully clamp it's claw on Squall's chest, ignoring its attacker. Rinoa screamed again, and this time at the sound of her voice, Squall's eyes opened weakly. He was being held tightly in the grip of the beast, the claws cutting into his flesh and drawing blood. It oozed from his chest, the claws ripping out shards and flecks of bone. His entire chest was nothing more than a fleshy mass now, and Irvine had to resist the strong urge to vomit. The whole smell of the battlefield did not help whatsoever; the scent of death was heavy in the air, being carried on the breeze.   
  
Irvine watched, amazed and worried, as Squall lifted his gunblade and swung.   
  
~*~   
  
[Squall, get up! Come on!]   
  
He opened his eyes wearily. Almost instantly the pain hit him, and he heard a voice scream his name. He looked to see himself caught in the claws of the Afflicted, the talons bitting painfully into his ribs. He heard a sickening crunch as something broke. A hot seering pain filled him, drowning out all coherent thought. Nothing pierced that veil until the loud scream filled the air, and he was just able to make out the beast raising it's head and looking toward Rinoa.   
  
He would recognise that voice anywhere. . .Even if it was her screaming. . .   
  
[Now's your chance. . .]   
  
The beast had exposed it's neck as it looked upwards. Squall, feeling almost too tired to move, felt around for his gunblade, and soon felt the familiar feel of it in his hand. It was covered with a slickness that was never there before, most likely blood. Using the last of his energy, he raised the blade, and swung, cutting deep into the throat. Blood splurted down on to him in sickening waves and he found himself almost drowning in the vile liquid. The beast fell over on to it's side, it's huge claws grappling at it's neck in a vain attempt to keep itself alive. It fell in almost a dramatic way, rising to it's hind legs before crashing down on it's side, the familiar mist of death in its eyes. A large pool of blood formed around the corpse as it breathed it's last, a shuddering breath that sent the blood flying from it's lips.  
  
Such an informal death. That was the difference between humans and monsters; when a person died, someone actually moarned.  
  
Watching the sight, Squall found himself falling back into the mists of sleep, his last sensation that of hands gently caressing his tired face, the warmth of his own blood spilling down his chest, soaking his shirt. It bothered his skin like an irresistable itch, but he no longer had the strength to reach up and scratch it, or the strength to keep his eyes open.   
  
~*~ 


	5. Chapter VI Ghost of A Chance

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter IV - Ghost of a Chance  
  
~*~  
  
[Come on. . .]  
  
He felt something stirring, deep within his mind. He tried to shrug it off and drift deeper into sleep, but it persisted to the point of annoyance.  
  
[. . .Don't have forever, get up before it's too late. . .]  
  
He slowly rose to the surface of consciousness, stopping just at the level before. He found himself in a dark place, looking at a ghostly white figure before him. The figure's definite features were blocked by the bright ghastly glow it let off. Still, he could tell that the being was male in form and had his arms crossed, as if annoyed. There was something definately familiar about the figure.  
  
"Link?" he murmered, "Is that. . .?"  
  
[Yeah,] the figue answered, his voice seeming to come from everywhere and no where all at once, [I have some bad news. You'd hear it from the others once you wake up, but I think maybe I should tell you first. I don't know. . .]  
  
"What is it?" Squall asked, concern in his voice, "It's not Rinoa, is it?"  
  
[Not from as far as I can gather,] Link replied, lips unmoving, [It's you. . .]  
  
"Me? What about me?"  
  
[You're dying, as strange as it sounds. You took too much damage in that fight. Internal bleeding and your broken ribs, well, the splinters of the bone from your broken ribs punctured your lungs,] the white figure turned away from him, arms still crossed, [And, I'm not sure you'll make it.]  
  
". . ."  
  
[But, maybe you should wake up and talk to the others. I got the information I did from evaluating your body, so I could be wrong. Besides, medical attention in your world is so much better than it was in mine, so maybe they can patch you up, right? And besides, if they can't there is always that. . .]Link's ghostly figure began walking away from him, and as he did, Squall noticed the slightest bit of discoloration in the 'ghost's' aura. Around Link's left arm and his neck the aura was slightly grey, swirling in with the white. It was barely noticable, but before he could say anything, Link was already a distance away, fading more and more with each step until he vanished completely into the darkness.  
  
Being alone again, Squall continued his ascent through the layers of unconsciousness, until at last he emerged into the world of waking, and opened his eyes to the painfully bright light.  
  
~*~  
  
". . .Rinoa, he's awake!" The weight on Squall's chest suddenly lessened, and he opened his eyes to see Rinoa staring at him with something akin to joy and surprise in her eyes. She seemed to hesitate before wrapping her arms around his neck in a suffocating hug. Once she heard him having trouble breathing she let go, and kissed him on his cheek.  
  
"Squall," she whispered, "You had me so worried. . ." He could see the sparkle of tears in her eyes, and he suddenly believed every word Link had said: He was dying.  
  
He was dying. There was a will to not believe that, to regard it simply as a mistake, a miscalculation. But soon, the awful realization hit him. He could feel the pain throbbing in his chest and on his back. It hurt to breathe. He was in the infirmary, connected to several machines, surrounded by his friends. Wrapped tightly in bloody gauzes. Rinoa, who was lying down almost on top of him, didn't seem to notice or care. Her weight caused him some slight discomfort on his hurting chest, but being that close to her was worth it, even if it was a little embarrassing. His other friends were spread about the room. Quistis, who stood by the door, arms crossed, had a sad expression on her face. Seifer sat in a chair, using his own legs as a support, cupping his chin in his hands, to Squall's right. Irvine and Selphie leaned against the wall to his left, both downcast. Zell stood several feet to the left of Quistis, shadowboxing with himself, a nervous expression on his face.  
  
Damn Link for being right again.  
  
"Squall," Doctor Kadawaki came into the room, her face carrying the seemingly common sadness and a clipboard in her hands, "I'm afraid I have some bad news. You see-"  
  
"Let me guess; I'm dying, right?" telling from the looks on everyone's faces, he was right. Damn Link. Goddamn him.  
  
The doctor nodded her head slowly, sadness in her eyes,"You see-"  
  
"I know," he interrupted again, bitterness evident in his tone, "Broken ribs and a punctured lung, correct?"  
  
"Yeah, but how did you know?" the doctor asked, startled by the angry expression on the Commander's face. He wrapped his arm around Rinoa, pulling her close to him. She went with it willingly, relishing the feeling of him being so close to her. She tucked her arms beneath her, and snuggled into his chest like a small child, mindful of his wounds.   
  
"Doesn't matter," he hissed, voice dripping a venom they had never heard from him before, "Can I be alone with Rinoa for a moment?"  
  
The doctor nodded her head, and the peanut gallery left the two of them to themselves. The once crowded room rang with silence until:  
  
"I'm sorry Rinoa."  
  
She moved away from his chest and stared at him deeply in his eyes, which were clouded in pain. A slight grimace covered his face. She looked at him, saddened, before responding.  
  
"No, it's my fault that all this happened. Had I been there, maybe I could have helped-"  
  
"-And possibly got yourself killed in the process. I wouldn't want that to happen, Rin. It's better that its me than you, but I will miss you. Very much so, don't ever doubt that."  
  
"Anywhere you go, I'd like to be there with you, whether it's death or otherwise, I want to be by your side. Forever." She gently lad a hand on his cheek and relaxed back down beside him. He wrapped both arms around her, and for a long time they stayed there like that, embracing each other. Eventually the doctor came back and told Rinoa that Squall needed his rest, so she got up reluctantly and moved toward the door, taking one last look at the now sleeping Squall.  
  
~*~  
  
[I guess this is goodbye, Gunblader. . .] Link stated to the sleeping entity that he had spent the last five years with. He hadn't interrupted Rinoa's love confession to tell Squall, and now he didn't want to wake him, but he knew the body didn't have much time. So he was to leave without a word.   
  
It was too bad really, he was beginning to think of Squall as a friend.  
  
Rising from the mists of the dying mind, Link left Squall's body and for the first time in years stepped out into the world in his own being, though lacking a physical essence. Everything was dim and dark, like a room full of shadows. No colors existed beyond the depressing shades of blue and black he now associated with his imprisonment. Cold and lonely colors, everything seemed flat, without definition.  
  
So, things had not changed since he was last outside Squall's body.  
  
He floated slightly above the floor, slowly moving towards the door, though a spirit like him did not need to use such a thing. Still, an old ingrained habit, he walked over to it and was about to walk through. He couldn't open it as he needed an actual hand to turn the knob, but he could just step through it, material and all. No real physical limitations for a ghost, he couldn't truely touch anything, but neither could anything touch him. He stepped forward just as the door was opened from the otherside, admitting the blonde instructor, a solemn look etched into her face. He saw fine lines forming on her face that were never there before, the weary look she wore. Indeed, this must have been a hard time for all of them.   
  
Isn't her name Quistis or something?  
  
Ignoring this train of thought, he was about to continue foward and through the instructor, at least until her eyes widened and she suddenly rasied a hand and pointed an him, surprise on her face and in her voice:  
  
"Who-what are you?! What are you doing here?!" she shouted. He did a quick look behind himself to see if she was talking to someone behind him. There was only Squall on the infirmary bed, sleeping as peacefully as one could when they knew it was their deathbed they were on. He turned back to Quistis, and she still had the shocked look on her face, one hand still pointing at him as though he was an intruder. He supposed he was. He raised one of his hands and pointed to himself, mouthing 'me'?  
  
"Yes, you. Who else would I be talking to?" Her voice answered with frustration and exasperation. The sound of footsteps in the nearby area could be heard, but Link was by far too distracted by what the woman had just said. Suddenly he wasn't so alone anymore. He felt lighter, elated. It was almost as if a light was lit in his chest, lacking that though he was.  
  
[You can see me? Really?] he voiced, making Quistis nervous. Before, he had mouthed 'me', but now as he actually said something, she could just barely make out that his lips weren't moving. It was hard to see through that strange bright aura he had. What had she just come across? Was it someone playing some form of a prank? Or was it actually something supernatural? Was this a ghost she was staring at?   
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Who's here. . .?" the Rider stopped his question half way though as he saw the ghostly figure. He had drawn his gun, but now it kind of hung by his side as he and the Martial Artist stared in shock. There was a bright white, ghostly figure standing before the blonde instructer, almost seeming to loom over her, but not in a menacing fashion. In fact, it looked quite excited.  
  
[You can really see me?! Finally!] The echoey voice seemed to drift through the air, sounding distant and faded. It was tinged with a brightness though, as though the ghost was happy, excited even. The figure suddenly calmed down and stared at them with a serious expression, which was hard to make out through it's glow. [Sorry about that, but you are the first people to see me ever since. . . whatever. I must ask you something serious, okay?]  
  
Quistis nodded her head, agreeing more because of shock than interst. His voice (it was obviously a male as he had a man's voice and build of one, hard as though it was too see) captivated her. It echoed through the room, and yet sounded as if someone was talking from a mile away. The voice seemed to come from no exact location, but instead from everywhere, it had an unearthly sound to it. He himself was terribly bright to behold, and his very essence was surrounded by a white mist. He looked almost, mystical. She had to restrain herself from physically shaking her head to regain her sense.  
  
[Is your friend, Squall, dying?] There was a general nod at this, and a depressed silence fell on the 'living' occupants of the room. Suddenly, the figure shook his head, [And there is no way to stop it?. . .I can help you, but I need your help as well. . .] To this the three of them wore a confused, suspicious expression and at this he elaborated, [I can help him with a piece of equipment I used to own. Only I can use it and get the desired effect, but as I am now. . . As you may have noticed, my body and I, well, have been seperated. If you can help me back and break the seal, I can and will help Squall.]  
  
"I'm afraid that Squall doesn't have much time left, so even if we did help you it'd be too late," Quistis said sadly, afraid to admit the words. The guys hung their heads, as if it was their fault that Squall was dying. Maybe if they had been quicker or stronger. . .  
  
[But you're wrong, the device I plan to use will work no matter whether he is alive or dead, it defies Time.]  
  
"How can we help you?" a fifth voice spoke from behind the guys. They turned and saw Rinoa standing there, looking like she had been crying, which she probably had. Her eyes all red and puffy, the dried tear tracks down her cheeks, she asked quietly. "Please," she spoke, "I will do anything to help Squall."   
  
Link smiled, finally someone with trust. [Well,] he explained, taking a quick glance back at the dying gunblader, [we should probably talk about this somewhere else, okay?]  
  
~*~  
  
[You see, I need to be of this world before I can help Squall. Now finding the instrument shall not be hard. The difficult part will be getting to my body. It is not quite in this world, so we need to find a point of universal balance. Some place where things seem to change all the time, yet stay the same. It's kinda hard to explain. It would be a strange place where things that shouldn't even exist do.]   
  
He stood within a circle of seven people, most with names he didn't know. He identified them with in his mind with what he thought of their personalities and by what they wore. There was the Rider, who still looked as if he were some kind of rancher with that wide brimmed hat and the long coat. There was the girl with him, who for no real known reason he seemed to refer to as the Messenger Girl. They were close together, his arm wrapped around her back as they half sat on the desk behind them. Next to the couple was the Martial Artist, who seemed quite content to keep moving. Beside him stood the Instructor, or as he remembered, Quistis. At her side was the Assistant, a woman who seemed pleased to assume the role by doing her job from the sidelines, hidden from any credit. The next, was the young fiancé of Squall, the lovely Rinoa. She stared at him with a pleading look in her eyes, almost as if she had given up all other hope.  
  
Last in the circular group formation was the other Gunblader, his suspicious eyes alway watching Link warily, almost as if he expected him of lies and treachery. He seemed the least willing to be standing there, and he kept a bit of a distance between him and the others, slightly breaking the symmetery of the circle.  
  
"Hey!" the Martial Artist suddenly shouted, drawing everyone's attention to him, "I know just the place! Those strange ruins in the Centra, ya know, where we found Odin? That'd be the place alright!" He crossed his arms against his chest proudly, as if waiting for the praise he would receive. Praise that never came.  
  
"You know, that's not a bad idea," the Assistant replied, turning towards all the others to see their opinion, "It sounds like it could work."   
  
"I don't see why we're even doing this! Standing here in some crazy circle, like a buch of crazy boyscouts," Seifer suddenly got volatile, "We can't help him! I'm sorry, but the matter off the fact is that you can't bring someone back from the dead!" he calmed down again, ". . .And Squall's almost that. Dead. There's nothing we can do!"  
  
It was Rinoa's turn to fly off the handle, "What are you talking about? If we can save him, then we've gotta try! If we don't, it's no better than killing him ourselves!" The two of them glared at each other, their opposing viewpoints getting in the way of better judgement.  
  
[It is entirely possible. Just help me and I'll save Squall, I promise. I swear. Please trust me, Squall didn't and, well. . .I tried to tell him. . .] Link spoke to the crowd surrounding him. They formed a circle with him in the middle, so when the questions and comments came, he felt like he was under attack. He didn't like this setup, but they had every right to be suspicious about him.  
  
"What do you mean by that?" the Rider questioned, angered that this could be Link's fault. If it was, he was not gonna help the ghost before him. He stepped forward in a threatening manner, "Did you have anything to do with this?"  
  
[Both yes and no, the glowing white ghost before him stated, [during the battle against the Afflicited, I told him to wait until it's eyes were destroyed. He didn't have the type of weapon I did when I last fought them, and so he couldn't hurt it very much. I told him to wait, but after the first eye was destroyed, he attacked anyway. Link lowered his head, I told him to stop and be patient, but he wouldn't listen. . .]  
  
"He could see you back then. . .?" the Messenger Girl asked, stepping forward towards Link, "But how come we could only see you just recently?"  
  
[No, he couldn't see me, I was in his mind. I was there as it was one of the few bodies I could enter. His soul is somehow damaged, not dangerously so, but it is like he is incomplete. I used this emptyness to enter his being. I was originally hoping he could help me with my problem, but. . .well, he thought he was going crazy. Then I thought about taking his soul,] Link raised his head again and stared Rinoa deeply in the eyes, who was staring back at him with confusion, [Not taking his soul, just kind of borrowing his body for a while, I guess. But I couldn't do it.]   
  
"You were in Squall's head. . .?" an amazed Rinoa asked him, leaning forward and looking upwards into his again downcast face. She was surprised when she actually could see emotion though that bright haze, but what she saw startled her even more. He was sad, embarassed, lonely, upset, and nervous.  
  
So he was telling the truth. . .he could have taken Squall's mind over, but he didn't.  
  
He was a good guy then. . .   
  
And he was seperated from his body. . .  
  
Who would do that to someone else? Why had no one come to the aid of the ghost before them?  
  
Well, he better not be dead, otherwise all hope of saving Squall seemed to die with him.  
  
"I'd go with you but. . ." Rinoa hesitated.  
  
[Of course, you want to be with him in his final hours. It's always good to love someone and know they love you in return. Never let him forget that, even though Time shall be altered so he doesn't die, that memory shall remain against all the changes.]  
  
"How exactly," Quistis began, curiousity peaked, ". . .do you plan to, well, help him?"  
  
[Hmm, this may be a bit hard to explain to the inexperienced, at least so in such matters. It's hard to say, think of Time as say, a river,] everyone in the room nodded, the analogy simple, [Time can only flow in one direction, and seems to speed at sometimes, yet crawl at others, like the currents. Okay, now say everyone who abides by Time's rules-, there was a bit of confusion by that statement, but Link ignored it, -rides that river in a Kínos.]  
  
"Kinos? What the hell is that?" the Rider asked, his expression bretraying his perplexity.  
  
[I don't know the definition of it, or translation, I should say, of it in your language. Let's see, you use it as a form of a boat. It is usually long and narrow, used for fresh water transportation and is made out of wood. And. . . I can't think of anymore of a description, sorry.]  
  
"I think you mean a canoe," the Assistant responded, "Just one question if I may?"  
  
[Of course,] Link replied, his arms crossed, yet not disrespectful.  
  
"Why don't you speak our language, or are unable to speak it fully?"  
  
[I'm not of your race, and in my Time and when a different language was the common tongue. Things have changed.]  
  
"I see," the Assistant answered, reduced to almost a small child in confidence before Link. She could sense an aura coming off from him that made her want to quiver in awe and respect, but there was something more to it. Some extra feeling that made her fear him, kind and gentle as he seemed. Whatever it was, it was well hidden, as she could not see anything wrong with him. Still, it was there.  
  
[Back to as I was saying before; Time is like a river, and most use 'canoes' to ride out their life, following the current. Now, imagine, if we gave these people oars for their canoes; what would happen?]  
  
"I guess they would change their direction, or maybe get off. . ." Seifer rambled, more content in getting the 'ghost' to continue on how to save the Commader then on about canoes and oars and rivers. Though they were rivals, how could someone compete when their opponent was dead? Life would just be so. . .boring.  
  
[Yes, they'd change their destination, and their direction all the way inbetween. This could change the lives of others, but still, that is to be expected.] Link looked at them, a slight smile cracking, though hard it was to see. The light of his being wrapped around him almost like a mist, billowing and dancing around him. [The instrument that I speak of is like an oar on the river, it allows a change in direction, and it is one of the most powerful of the Time altering artifacts. Now the only problem is, to keep those not destined to from changing the future, the Goddesses,] Link hesitated for a second, looking thoughtful, [or whatever's up there, designed these objects so that not everyone can use them for any reason. I am one of the people they chose for this responsibility.]  
  
"I see," Rinoa whispered, "So, could you use this instrument to save him?"  
  
[Yes.]  
  
"I still don't see how an 'instrument' can save a man's life. Prove it," Seifer fummed, not willing to trust Link. The man had to have been sealed away for some reason or another.  
  
[I can't actually prove it, as if I had the instrument and the solidity, then when I'd go back, you wouldn't remember telling me to prove it. But it is also the only chance you have, and also my last chance. If you do not help me, I might never find my way out of the seal.]  
  
"You had to have been sealed for a reason, why don't you enlighten us?" Seifer hissed, slightly surprised at his inexplicable hate and distrust towards this person who was offering to help Squall, the man he competed with who was currently on his deathbed. He should be jumping at the possiblity that Squall could be saved, but here he was, suspicious.  
  
[. . .An old ally of mine believed that after some of my adventuring, well, he was worried I'd go insane, and after my recent accomplishments, he realized that they would be in serious trouble if ever that happened,] Link replied, not fully truthful in his answer, but close enough he figured, [So he asked me, and since I was going through a bad time, I agreed. He never really did give me much of a choice. It was more of a polite thing to ask me. He would have done it anyway. All was going as he planned, but just before the ritual was complete, I sensed something was wrong. There was this friend of mine, and I was closely connected to her and I could tell that she was in trouble. So I told them I had to help someone, and that they could seal me after. My ally wouldn't listen, probably thinking that it was a trick, and continued with the ritual. There was nothing I could do, so I was forced to sit there while being sealed and do nothing to help. The seal was finished, and still I could feel that trouble. It was like I had abandoned my friends, whether I could reach them or not was another matter.] Link sighed, [It would have been fine if I had died eventually, but, I was kept alive all this Time, long past a normal life span.] Link dropped his gaze to the floor and did not look up again.  
  
Silence was all that could be heard amongst the group. On almost every person's face, there was some form of sadness, betraying how they felt about the ghost's past. On Link's face, Rinoa could just make out anger and frustration, both understandable. As the ghost had said himself, he didn't have anyway to break himself out; he had to wait for someone else to free him. And if no one knew about him, then it could take ages.  
  
"I'll go with you," Quistis stepped forward, "I'll do what I can to help Squall."  
  
"Same! I just can't sit here and watch him die, ya know?" the Martial Artist said, swinging his arms about enthusiastically, causing the Messenger Girl and the Rider to duck lest they be hit in the face. He turned towards everyone in the room, looking at them each in their own turn, "Seriously, I can't just sit by and do nuthin'!"  
  
There were several nods throughout the room. Link looked up and watched as they each conversed to the person beside them in quiet tones. He waited while everyone discussed their opinions and obligations, agreeing and disagreeing constantly. Finally, the Assistant-  
  
[Xu,] Link thought, the name suddenly popping into his head. He had no idea where these random thoughts were coming from, but 'Xu' was a lot quicker to say (or think) then the Assistant.  
  
-stepped towards him. She addressed him with respect and a caution that he had never seen used towards a commoner before. Sure, maybe before a king such actions would be warranted, but here? He was no warlord, no king, he was simply a man who desperately wanted to return to the living world, instead of this land of specters and phantoms that he currently resided in.   
  
"We would all like to go with you and do our best to save the Commander," she stated, glancing quickly at a few select people, "but we must also remember that a lot of people rely on us for safety. Some of us can go with you, while others should stay and tend to Squall and watch out for anymore of those monsters."  
  
[Completely understandable,] and though not for the first time in the couple of hours that they knew him, the people present were still surprised to see Link's face break out into a large grin. It wasn't malicious, as if he were hiding something. Instead it was bright, joyous, and infectious, [just remember that the afflicted are weak around their necks. Target that with something sharp.]  
  
A harsh sigh was suddenly emitted from Seifer, and the entire group only then noticed that he had moved away from the circle and towards the edge of the room. There he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, looking at them with disdain before shaking his head. "Someone's gotta go with you guys to make sure you don't get your collective heads too high in the clouds. I'll do it. And you," he said, making eye contact (as much as one could when staring at an unearthly figure that was about as bright as a distant sun that seemed not so distant) with Link, "I'll be keeping an eye on you. No funny stuff, understand?"  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence, unbroken until finally, with an even larger grin than before (if that was possible), Link responded with a nod. The heaviness in the air dropped instantly, and more than one person could be heard sighing with relief.  
  
The tension cleared, Xu and Quistis began a plan for how things were going to operate in the absence of the three members of the Garden. While three people was not usually much of a concern, they were three of the strongest SeeDs (Seifer had passed the test several days before, commended on his bravery and determination). All this and with the worry over there being more of those monsters, and with the Commander down made things look pretty bleak. Panic was sure to ensue, so a plan would be the best course of action.  
  
Many of the people in the room discussed what they thought would be a good idea, and how they thought it should be executed. Not really understanding all that they said, Link put on a smile, a sort of dumbfounded one, and moved back out of the now decrepid circle and half heartily listened from a distance. He looked around, studying each person in their manners of socializing and behaviors.   
  
He was not surprised to see Seifer silent and wary of him, watching him from the corner of his eye from his position, standing far outside of the group and still leaning against that wall.  
  
~*~ 


	6. Chapter V Changing Worlds

Broken Dreams   
  
Chapter V - Changing Worlds  
  
~*~   
  
I have just discovered that I really, really do not like flying.  
  
It's very disturbing to see the Ragnor. . .Ragnar. . .airship to bounce and dive with the 'turbulence' (I think that's what the others called it), meanwhile, I have to make sure I don't just pass through the floor and get left behind. At least, I think I'd get left behind. I really don't want to try and find out.  
  
The entire ship shakes violently, and I am sure that if I could, I would be vomiting right now. It's going to be so awkward when I get my body back. I can't wait to feel everything again. Even when I was in Squall's mind, it just wasn't the same as when I was whole. Though his body breathed, I couldn't feel that. I couldn't feel the ground under his feet as he walked. I couldn't feel the texture of the things that he touched. I couldn't smell the air, I couldn't feel anything, just a mind numbing coldness that never left. When I took control, it was only for one reason; to feel myself be at the helm again, even if it was only temporary. The only other reason I would ever take control was if Squall was in no condition to do anything. Like if he was in shock or something. Didn't happen often, but whatever.  
  
That coldness is blanketing my mind again, and it feels so eerie. It's comforting, but disturbing. Everything seems to be in a haze, like it doesn't matter. It swims through my mind, and my thought process slows down dramatically. I have to fight it and push it back, lest I wish to move at the speed of a snail. Mentally anyways. It's almost like falling asleep, relaxing like that, but it never leaves. It also brings about a sense of awareness and caution. There was always a part of me screaming for me to snap out of it, to get up and find a way out. But it was so hard to push it back, the feeling of hopelessness often made me want to give up. Still does. It's stronger sometimes than other Times, and right now it seems overbearing.   
  
I shake my ethereal head and it lessens slightly, clearing up my thoughts. It's still there, beckoning to me with the thought of rest and sleep, but I won't oblige. At least it doesn't come to me as often as it used to. That need for rest and sleep. That restfulness never lasts. I always wake up, Din knows how long later, in worse straits then when I first fell asleep. It's no solution, not even a reprieve. It's like Tyrael's way of keeping me sealed. If I'm asleep, how can I escape? I had to tell these SeeDs about what happened to me before they can help. Would have been a bit hard to do if I'm snoozing away in my seal.  
  
I think whatever kind of safety device this sleep thing is, there's some flaw with it. The first Time I gave into it, so long after struggling against my bonds, I eventually woke up. Suddenly and mysteriously. I am sure that wasn't supposed to happen. Asleep, I would never have a chance to escape. It wasn't until a short while ago that I was able to escape my prison, though in spirit only. If whatever it was Tyrael used worked properly, then I would not be here now. He failed in that aspect.  
  
But wait. What about Mephisto and Baal? They were awake (or so I've heard) when they were unsealed. Tyrael told me that himself, when I had my first real chance to talk to him, at the Pandemonium Fortress. I hadn't known what he was talking about then, and it never occurred to me that it might matter. Who cared if they were awake or asleep or what when they were unsealed? Whatever mechanism or method he used, was it only created to hold me? Or was it used as well on Baal and Mephisto, but maybe they were too strong? Maybe they found the same flaw I did. It takes Time to learn to force back that numb feeling. I resisted it so long in the beginning because I wanted to escape so badly. There was (maybe still is) something wrong in Hyrule, and I can't do a damn blasted thing to stop it. Nor could I then. But now. . .  
  
Now I have another chance. I shouldn't waste it. I can't.  
  
Thoughts about how Quistis could suddenly see me raced through my head. How she could see me and hear me. The first person ever since I escaped my prison over six years ago. And even then, free of my physical bonds, it took me a while to find Squall, which meant I had to travel quite a bit to find the reclusive hero.   
  
Heh, hero. A better one then I ever was. All the Times I have failed. . .  
  
I push back the images of towns and villages where it was too late. Of little children dying in vast fields of blood, wondering out loud where their parents are. Why it hurts. Why no one comes to help them. Why they're all alone. Their crying, wailing screams slowly dying out as the fight leaves them. The last sound that of sobbing as they can no longer find the voice to call out for their parents. Always the last struggle to breathe as they whisper for their loved ones, before that one, last shuddering breath. And then nothing, no breathing, no sobbing, no whispering. Only the tracks of drying tears down their cheeks.  
  
I shut my eyes to block it all out, but I can't. The memories are inside me, not some picture I'm being shown. Not something that I can just close my eyes and look away from. I can't - shouldn't think this way. It hurts too much to remember all that, the way the blood had smeared on the children's faces like some sadistic paint and the way I could see the death creep slowly into their eyes like some plague. A deadly, dangerous mist. And there was never anything I could do. . .  
  
It doesn't matter. All that's in the past. I can't change it just by thinking about it. I - I just have to be faster next Time. I don't want anyone else to die just because I am too slow. . .Always too late, just in Time to see them breathe their last. That final, shuddering breath as their chest caves in, or a wrenching cough as they choke on their own blood. Convulsing limbs reaching out for lost loved ones, trying to regain that foothold on life, but it's already too late. The wet sound of struggling flesh, torn and ripped, it's owner still alive but dying.  
  
The worst of all, that inevitable silence. The soundless noise that just eats away at your mind and soul.  
  
The Time I found that caravan, capsized in the sand near Lut Gholein comes to mind. It was haunted by that insane silence and I approached cautiously, while my mind screamed loudly at me to run back, to forget the supplies I needed so badly. I could sense the death here, but aside from just needing the supplies, I needed to check for life. If there was somebody alive I couldn't just leave them. The sharp smell of rotting bodies and heat and blood in the air. The body I found and turned over, the person looking like they could still be alive.  
  
I was wrong.   
  
Maggots crawled from the sockets where the eyes once were. The small worms grew in plenty, nurtured by the shade from the previously overturned body. Dark blood stains coated torn clothes, the fabric rotting slower than the skin. An arm, half gnawed off by some predator had been left behind, the flaps of skin already in the process of mummification. A hole in the right temple, covered by a scaly grey substance, which probably once was his brains, now dried by the hot desert sun. Jaw hanging open, a last look of horror still on his face. Dark black hair sizzled, the top of one of the wagons showed the signs of a fire too. Bodies everywhere. . .  
  
It was so quiet, not a sound for what seemed like hours upon end. I was all alone there, with those bodies, all of us slowly being cooked under the desert sun.   
  
Ran out of food and water, so I had to raid the caravan's stores. Unfortunately, all the food was either rotting or already eaten, and most of the water barrels had been slashed open. There was a small one that had managed to escape, rolling under a wagon at some point during the attack. I could see it, near halfway through the makeshift shaft under the wagon.  
  
Under there were several bits and pieces of human flesh, discarded limbs and organs, but I needed that water. I had no choice but to crawl under there and grab that barrel, forcing myself to crawl through decaying skin and whatnot. But I had needed that water. I did get to that barrel, but not before wading through a pool of someone's entrails. The shade had prevented them from drying quickly, so most of the liquids were still well, liquid. My hand comes across something small and solid. I stop in mid movement. I accidentally crawled through half the pool before I could even realize what it was. The smell took a minute, before it wafted up strongly into my nose, causing me to reel in disgust. I swear I almost fainted right then and there. The strong scent, the sudden cool of the shade, it was all so overwhelming. Inside my head, it felt so warm. . .too hot. And blurry, everything was so blurry. . .   
  
I think. . .I think I vomited then.  
  
Yes, I have to crawl around it. I'm already through the pool of shit, almost on the other side. I've got to get out.  
  
I've got to get out. . .  
  
There's a stream of sunlight before me. I'm almost out. . .  
  
I crawl through the sand and struggle to squeeze through the suddenly too small of a space. Oh, Goddesses, I feel like I'm suffocating. . .  
  
As my hand slips deeply into the sand, it comes in contact with something small, cool, and wet. I gulp and look down at it slowly. I see a small round thing, black in the lack of light. I grab it and feel it for a second. It's smooth and cold. I turn it over, not sure to be afraid or what. I can feel my stomach ready to do flips again, as I turn the small object in my hands. On the other side, there are two holes. . .  
  
Nayru! That's a skull!  
  
I drop it hastily and flinch backward, my heart racing. For some reason, I can't take my eyes off of the skull. It's not like it's the first Time I've seen one, either. Still, I watch it like it's some evil thing. Time seems to slow, and it hits the ground, entrenching itself. As it lands, it makes an echoing sound, followed by the small splash of water.  
  
Water. . .?  
  
I crawl back over to it with confusion. It's not a skull, the holes were just flaws in the the barrel's wood.  
  
Water. . .  
  
I hold the barrel right next to my chest, almost protectively. Moving quickly, I squirm under the wood of the caravan coach and into the bright light. The harshness of the sun is so sudden and so strong that I raise a hand to cover my eyes. I return it, however, quickly back to the barrel as it nearly slips from my grasp, ignoring the pain in my eyes. I am not losing this barrel, not until I get the water.  
  
On closer inspection, I realize that the holes were actually caused by some kind of bug, but it doesn't matter right now. Grabbing at the lid, I do everything but bust it in to get it open. It doesn't budge. The only thing that happens is I catch a good whiff of the awful smell on my hands, after wading in that pool of blood and guts. It's enough to make me want to faint, again. I shake my head and briefly think about damaging it, but I don't want to get splinters in the water. That would be ironic. In my rush to get at the water that I need, I'd choke on the splinters caused by me being too hasty. Almost ironic enough to make me laugh.  
  
What a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings I am recently. Yesterday I was about sour enough to curdle new milk. Especially after that encounter with those stupid, Din-forsaken Sand Leapers. Oh, what an annoyance a lizard can be. How much worse can a frog slash amphibian thing get? It jumps, it rolls, the thing might as well fly for all it's worth. Goddesses, those things drive me crazy, with all their leaping and dodging and landing on my back, ripping the flesh there into bloody, painful ribbons. . .  
  
Okay, enough about yesterday. Back to the barrel. . .  
  
How to get in. . .?  
  
With sudden inspiration, my sword is drawn and is being used as a lever to wedge open the barrel. I hold the barrel steady in the crook of my knee, an insane grin on my face. This blasted, damned thing has never had a better use. I wince inwardly at my own swearing, but it's too late now, I can't take it back. Just will have to hope that the Goddesses forgive me for that.   
  
With a terribly loud creak (I only just now realize that the deadly silence hasn't left yet, and probably will never leave this spot), the barrel opens, followed by a loud pop. I look inside cautiously. I have had enough traps just suddenly blow up on me recently that I am not going to take even this on some sliver platter.  
  
It's a little low, near the bottom (most of it probably spilled out of the holes), and it looks pretty dark, but otherwise safe. The inside of the barrel reeks of rotten wood and fungus, but I'm too thirsty to care. I raise the thing to my lips and just about drop it in surprise.   
  
Past my lips floats the body of a dead bug thing. It looks sorta like a cockroach, but larger and fatter, black in appearance (or so the lack of light would have me to believe). I move back, and look into the barrel closely. There's at least a half a dozen dead bugs in here. It looks like they drowned, probably during the fight that took out the caravan. Why the bugs would even burrow into a barrel full of water in the first place escapes me, but I don't care. Water is water, no matter what was housed in it.  
  
But do I really want to drink water that has dead, giant, bloated bugs floating in it?  
  
I nod absently, despite the fact that I'm the only person here (living anyway). I reach in, and pull out the bugs, one by one. They are all cold and clammy and wet and this is definitely not an appetizing idea, drinking water that was housing drowned bugs for the past, well Nayru knows how long. Once all the bugs are out and on the sand beside me (at least all the ones I know about), their legs curled upward as they lay on their backs, lifeless, I raise the barrel again. The last one I take out makes a strange clicking sound and twitches after I toss him on to the sand beside his buddies. Another quick look into the wooden container shows that there is nothing else in there (and a lot less water without all those bugs in there, they must be like super absorbent or something), and I take a big hearty swallow, tasting the wood's taste in the water.  
  
Hmm. Oak, if I'm not mistaken. I take another gulp.  
  
And another.  
  
And another.  
  
The water is gritty, full of sand. That's gonna be a pain later. All that sand that's floating into my mouth is getting caught in my teeth and whatnot and-  
  
Oh, Farore!  
  
I choke on the water and start coughing it up, along with the pieces of the bug I just swallowed. That's just disgusting! It's all   
  
crunchy and slimy. I cough harshly, trying to cough up only the bug, not the precious water. My eyes are clenched as my throat   
  
gets sore quickly, and there's still a lot of insect to be coughed up. I plant both hands on the sand to support myself to fini-  
  
-A strong jolt brings me back to reality, and that the bug I 'just' ate was nothing more than a rotten memory. The taste fades, as does the feeling of the sand and the wind and the sun. All feeling soon dissipates, and it's back to the existence of a ghost. I was lost in my past. Geez, I hate that. I shake my head to dispel the last of the illusion, and I open my eyes, just in Time for us to hit another bump, or whatever, of turbulence. This Time, however, I don't even come close to drifting out the floor or roof. I don't even really notice, I'm still thinking about those rotten memories. That memory still makes me feel like vomiting; first the pool of someone's organs and blood and who knows what else, and then accidentally swallowing a mangled bug the size of my fist. I'm lucky I didn't choke on that blasted thing.  
  
The airship receives another jolt from the turbulence, and this Time I do almost fly out. Things fall from their positions, smashing on to the floor with a loud clatter. I find myself floating up as the floor starts going through me and I am not going to be left behind. I float up until I am about halfway between the ceiling and the floor.  
  
You know, out of all the things I hate about my current state of existence, floating isn't one of them. It's actually quite fun being able to drift around without gravity to chain me to the ground. I think that if I could fly, it would be something like this. It loses a bit of it's charm since I can't actually touch anything, though.  
  
The airship straightens out and after the curses are done from flying around in the front, Seifer comes out of the cockpit and passes me by. He shoots me a venomous look as he enters the back of the aircraft, down where they keep the supplies. They gathered up all sorts of food which I have never seen before just in preparation for this trip. Breads, rations, fruits, and drinks which I have never even heard ot before, they have it all with them. We've got enough to feed a small army, or so it seems. I have absolutely no clue how much an army eats, so I could be just off in the blue there, but still, we should have more than enough.  
  
Then again, it depends on how long it takes us to find my body, and then also how long it takes to get back. If I remember correctly (and bear with me, this was a while ago), Tyrael did some extra precautions to seal my body and made sure that no one could get to it. He probably made some traps, a few guardians, but there was one thing he was not counting on. I know all those creatures' weaknesses, their attack patterns, and even their tactical tendencies. We run into anything down there and I can alert the others on what to do and how to do it.  
  
There's another sudden jolt and I find myself peering out into a sea of clouds. Beautiful scenery, mind you, but slightly disconcerting. Especially since in my current state they have a eerie, almost evil blue black appearance. I can't even tell if it's day or night.   
  
I float downwards and back into the airship so that my head is no longer poking out of the roof. Lovely view, wish I could stay up there and enjoy it, but if there is another bit of turbulence, I could go flying right out and end up who knows where.  
  
I settle a little closer to the floor and stretch out, despite the fact that it won't do anything for me. The hum of the machinery is quiet and relaxing, rythmatic. I sit back and think about what could happen soon. I'll be free, no more of this floating around and going through stuff as a ghost.  
  
It's kind of ironic. My greatest freedom (unlimited movement, like come on, how many people wish they could fly?) has become my prison. But soon, soon I can escape that, and live normally. Though I have absolutely no clue as to what I'm going to do with myself.  
  
Just as I am about to imagine my life if I was free again, and what I would do, the Martial Artist, or Zell, as his companions call him, comes out of the cockpit and towards me. His expression is uncharacteristically serious and severe, but as he looks at me he suddenly breaks out into a wild grin.  
  
"We'll be there in like fifteen minutes" he says, turning his back to me for a second as he points to the cockpit, "Sorry about all bumps and all, but it's kinda windy and whatever." I stare at him, and take in his appearance. The way a ghost would see him. The way his face is out lined in black, heavy in contrast with the stormy blues that make up the lighter surfaces. The black and blue of his clothing, and the red on his strange sneakers. Red is the only other color that can still show up for me, although it's usually blood that I see so vividly. Sometimes the color is left out, and replaced with blue or black, and sometimes it's there. Really makes me wonder.  
  
I shake my head, [It's no big deal or anything, it's just. . .a little difficult trying to keep myself inside the airship.]  
  
"Oh, I guess that would be a problem," he says, his smile never fading, "It won't be too long now, so don't get too relaxed." He walks back towards the cockpit at a slow pace, looking positively laid back. The dull thud of his strange shoes fades as he disappears from sight. I shake my non-existent head and start thinking again.  
  
One thing I must say that I do like about being without my body is that, well, the past doesn't haunt me as bad. Sure, I still get the occasional flashback or painful memory, but. . .at least, I'm without her. . .I'm not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing.  
  
Before those thoughts come rushing towards me and drown me like the proverbial flood that they are, another jolt shakes the ship. Quickly followed by another. Suddenly, the aircraft just plummets.   
  
I can hear a squeal from the cockpit, along with a scream and quite the mouthful of cussing. Boxes and containers and whatnot around me are stuck in midair, caught in free fall. That's gonna be a mess once we hit the ground. This whole ship is gonna be a pile of mush and dust when we hit, and I'm going to be the only one to survive. Not even something this advanced could last against a fall like this. At such a ridiculous height (Zell told me the exact number, but it escapes me now), nothing could survive. Well, I guess I will, unless ghosts are smushable.  
  
Everyone. . .Everyone's gonna die. . .  
  
The realization of exactly what's happening leaks in slowly, as I sink to my knees.  
  
Nothing I can do. Not like this. . .  
  
I raise my hands and take a good look at them. Extremely pale and transparent. Hollow and incomplete.   
  
I never even got them to trust me. . .  
  
I turn my hands over and look at the palms. The lines and scars are not even visible, due to the extreme fading of detail from my body. Then again, I suppose a scar on the hand or a few lines wouldn't affect the soul, now would they?  
  
It's not the first Time these hands have failed me. . .Failed those I promised to help, to protect.   
  
How many Times have I failed the people who counted on me?  
  
When Gannondorf reached the Triforce. When Kakariko nearly burned down. When Zelda was captured at the Temple of Time. In Termina, when I was trying to help those people. Everyday, I saw them plead their problems to me, and I always had to mess it up and try again. And again and again until I finally got it right. How many Times did I see Anju wait for Kafei until the moon fell? And him never arrive?  
  
When Mikau and Darmani died, I imitated them. Lulu saw me, heard me, not Mikau. How did she feel when he didn't appear for the festival? How did the Goron Elder feel when Darmani was never seen again? How did all of them feel?  
  
Because I know how I felt.  
  
How I still feel.  
  
Nothing. Nothing but my own regret.  
  
The aircraft comes suddenly to a stop, but it isn't crushed. Boxes and containers crash to the ground, and I can hear plenty of swearing. Things fall loudly and scatter, many even break open. I don't even notice.  
  
When I went to fight the Prime Evils, how many dead bodies were strewn across the ground? How many of them could have been saved, had I gotten there earlier?  
  
Had I been a little bit quicker, I could have prevented the Wanderer from releasing his brother. Baal would have been stopped and I could have fought and killed the Wanderer or at least have held that fool - Marius, was that his name? - back while Tyrael did the honors. I can see him, in his golden robes with those strange, almost tentacle like wings of his flowing behind him. Before him stands the Wanderer, who is far less human now, dressed in his black robes with his bald head uncovered, showing the small horns that I assume are a recent addition. Between both of them lays the bridge that would lead across the gap in which Baal is held, twisting and pulling at his chains, which are ironically, his own tentacles. Marius stands watching all of this, and when Tyrael flings himself at the Wanderer and Marius sees and hears Baal call to him. He runs forward to free Tal Rasha, who is now more Baal than his original self. As he runs across the bridge, I jump him and keep him away from the seal.  
  
Had I done that, have been there sooner, Baal wouldn't have been released. Diablo might have died a Tyrael's hands, and then it would have been only Mephisto. What was his human name again?  
  
Oh yes. Sankekur. The man who became the Lord of Hatred, Mephisto. Who almost destroyed the jungle city of Kurast. Him and his Goddess damned council. I should have-  
  
"What the fucking Hell!" comes a loud voice from the back of the aircraft. It's Seifer. He was still in the back from earlier, and I suspect that a lot of those boxes fell on him. The people in the cockpit at least had seat belts and all the equipment up there is probably securely strapped in. Back there, well, it was probably pretty painful.  
  
He comes storming by me, giving me another venomous look as he passes by, almost as if I did that to him.  
  
Then again, I suppose that it could be considered my fault. If it wasn't for me, they wouldn't be on this aircraft, and wouldn't have been in danger there. It always seems to come back to being my fault, just for me being there.  
  
Seifer continues and barges into the cockpit. Before he disappears from my sight I notice the large bruise on his forehead. It's already gaining color, and that combined with the fact that he looks absolutely furious leads me to believe that he's going to have a bit of a harsh word with the pilot.  
  
There's a silence, and then a voice pierces the air:  
  
"Oh, Seifer, you don't look so good. . ."   
  
"What the fuck was up with that? Selphie? Care to explain?" Seifer's voice is filled with malice, and telling by the gasp that follows, I'm quite sure that Selphie is not enjoying this. I must admit that I am a little upset I can't see anything from here, it'd probably be pretty amusing. I shouldn't intrude though, it's none of my business.  
  
"Heh, um, me and Zell had this bet. . ."  
  
"ALL THAT WAS OVER A BET?!" Seifer roared, and I swear I feel the walls shake with his anger.  
  
"Well, ya. . ." Zell replied.  
  
I can hear someone mumbling now, but I can't make out the words. Soon all is quiet again, and after a long pause Seifer continues by telling Selphie that she better not do it again. He seems a lot calmer than before, and I figure that Quistis has something to do with that. One good glare could remind him not to push his luck, and that he could easily be kicked out again.  
  
The blonde gunblader comes by me again and heads into the back. The now prerequisite glare is given, and he disappears again. I wonder vaguely what he is doing back there when suddenly the ship lurches again. This Time, it doesn't enter free fall, so I figure that we must be landing.  
  
Zell walks back towards me and stands patiently, almost as if he's waiting for my attention. I nod at him and he starts, the usual smile not present. Without it, he looks pretty dour like that, and it's enough to bring down my own mood (which isn't exactly soaring here to begin with).  
  
"We're there. The exit's at the back, just follow me." He starts heading down the same way Seifer did earlier, expecting me to do as he said. But I shake my head.  
  
Why follow him, when I can just go through the wall, or the floor? I allow myself to phase through the material of the airship, and I drift downwards towards the ground.   
  
The area itself is a hardpan desert with a dried black gray (though I can't be sure if this is it's true color) clay and is cracked throughout from the heat. The sky is a dreary blue black, and to the north in the distance I can see tall mountains. Tall, steep slopes that look near impassable except by airship. In the midst of it all stands a tall tower, encased within four metal frames which appear like the outline of a diamond. It stands tall into the sky, it's height rivaling that of the mountains to the north.  
  
It looks old, terribly old. Like it's been here before the mountains were more than hills. Before this land cracked and dried with the heat. It, in that way, reminds me of the temples at home so much. Especially of the Temple of Time.  
  
Thinking of that place takes me back. The endless chanting by an unseen choir, the light that filled the building with an eerie glow, even though there was only one window. It always seemed so surreal there, like if I were to blink, it would just become a building like any of the other temples, dead and lifeless. Life will never again appear in the Fire Temple, or the Water or Spirit temples, never anything more then those monsters shall inhabit them. But in the Temple of Time, it seems as if something lives there, and is only gone for a short while. I feel as if I belong there, and though whatever else that is supposed to habit that Temple will appear sooner or later, but it will not bother me. For we both belong to that Temple, and are in that way connected.  
  
The others step down out of the ship off of an incline that leads down from a opening in the back. First is the Rider, along with the Messenger Girl (who's real name is Selphie, from what I caught from the conversation in the cockpit). After her comes Zell, quickly followed by Seifer, who is still watching me warily. Last comes Quistis, in a long skirt and a bright top (I can't tell the exact color). She sports her hair in it's usual style, tightly pulled back in a high up ponytail, all except for the bangs. On her arms, she wears long black gloves that reach all the way up to her elbows. In one hand she carries her whip with her, a violent red material that seems to be something other than leather. Dark black boots, the same shade as her gloves cover her feet up to where her long skirt ends. A strong, determined look graces her face, lacking the glasses she so commonly wears. Out of all the group, except maybe Seifer, she looks the most prepared for battle.  
  
"That's it," she states, pointing to the large tower which is around a mile to the north of us, "The Centra ruins. This should be the place."   
  
Before I can nod to show my understanding, Seifer interrupts, "Can we just get this freak show on the road? The faster we find ole "Ethereal's" body, the quicker we can get back to the Garden."  
  
"'Ethereal'? I would have thought you to call him " Ghosty", or something like that," Zell replied, as the Rider and Quistis started talking amongst themselves quietly. Selphie turns and listens into their conversation, but she seems to make no contributions of her own.  
  
"Well, whatever. I'll call him whatever the damn hell I want."   
  
Judging by the sly, mocking look that appeared on Zell's tattooed face, I'm sure he had a nice reply for that, but before he could say anything, Quistis stepped forward and interrupted him: "Irvine's lending us this phone-" she raised a small, grey, rectangular object into the air, "-and we are to phone him when we return. It's only going to be the three of us going, and when we get back we'll phone Irvine and Selphie and they'll come pick us up." She turned back to face the Rider (or Irvine, I should say), "I'll try phoning you once we get to the other side. I just want to see if it works." Irvine nodded and Quistis moved to attach the small object to her belt. I suppose that's a 'phone', but I have absolutely no clue how it works. It seems plain, with no markings on it or anything. I can't see anything special about it, whatsoever.  
  
"Okay, I think that's everything," Selphie says with a large smile, then she raises one fist to the sky, like she's cheering, or something, "Good luck you guys!" she shouts loudly. "We'll see you when you get back!" together, she and Irvine ran back into the airship, while we all look towards Quistis.  
  
"Might as well get going," she stated, and with those words, we were off towards the tower that loomed before us. It was only a mile, but one of the longest miles I have ever seen. It seemed to last so long, but maybe that was due to the fact that no one was talking. For the first Time since I had become more properly acquainted with the "Orphanage Gang", every one was silent. Even Zell. I kept looking at all of them as I floated beside Quistis, near the front of the line. Zell looked bored and dejected, Quistis looked like she was in deep thought, and as I fell back so that I could float beside Seifer, the last in the line, he became quickly annoyed and waved his hand to shoo me off, like one would do to wave away smoke.   
  
"Bug off, Ethereal," he murmured, not even looking at me.  
  
"Oh, come off it!" Zell turned around and shouted, halting the entire group's progress, "You're not better than everybody here so get off your fucking high horse!"   
  
"Whoa, look at the Chicken-wuss. You want to make a deal of this?" Seifer asked, and even I knew what he was hinting at, and personally, I don't think Zell would stand a chance against the gunblader in a fight.  
  
"Stop it, you two!" Quistis exclaimed, her voice authorative, but not loud. Instantly both stopped their little glaring war and looked at her, "We are not going to fight over trivial matters now, you guys can wait till we get back to the Garden to do that. And Seifer?" He flinched at the mentioning of his name, "Thin ice." As she turned back to face our destination, Zell stuck out his tongue quickly at Seifer and immediately Quistis said that she saw that, stifling Zell's smug look.  
  
I floated back up to the front, now I know who's the power in this little troup. Hey, I'm not one to challenge authority, if you know what I mean.  
  
~*~  
  
Goddesses, this place is amazing.   
  
We're standing on a hill, just a few yards south of the tower. Strange trees that are tall and lack any foliage or branches until the very top form almost a sort of gate around us. A dry, short grass grows under our feet and stretches towards the tower, looking quite dead or at least in the process of dying.  
  
The tower looms before us, and without hesitation the others run towards it. I stare for a brief second (a second that seems to last an eternity) and then I follow, catching up to them quickly. Sometimes there's advantages in this situation that I'm stuck in, but the bad far outweigh the good.  
  
We come quickly down the hill and under an arch, where I catch the sight of a sign knocked down, and one still standing. Before the others passed through I quickly asked Quistis what the sign said, hoping that she could read it.  
  
"It. . .It says My Blue Heaven," she answers, looking thoughtfully at it, crossing her arms.  
  
[I see. . .What about the other? The fallen one?]  
  
"It says the same damn blasted thing," Seifer answered, irritated, "Now let's go!"   
  
Past the old stone arch was a staircase that seemed to glimmer and shine. It also looked to keep changing color, as the multitude of grays and blacks and blues (and even the occasional red) I saw rippled through the transparent substance.   
  
I wonder what it would look like if I could actually see the colors.  
  
The others climb up it quickly, not even looking about the see through staircase they were traversing. Maybe it isn't as special as I thought. Then again, they've probably seen it before, and it wouldn't be as special the second Time.   
  
We reach another level of the tower, a large stone flat, only maybe thirty feet in diameter. There's piles of rubble lining the edges, almost like crude walls. Weeds are growing through cracks in the stones, and a fountain sits in the middle of it all, the cracked edging on one side leaking water that doesn't appear to ever completely drain.  
  
Knowing that if I stop and ask questions, Seifer will just get angry and push us along again, I ignore the details of this floor level and head to the staircase on the opposite side, which is much like the one that lead us to this floor. However, I stop when I realize that no one else is following, they're all back before the fountain.   
  
I float over to them and look at each in their own turn. It takes me a moment, but realization dawns on me. The statue. . .  
  
I turn around and face it, scrutinizing it closely. It's a young man on a horse, dressed in strange armor (light plate if I'm not mistaken, but a little different), carrying a sword I recognize all too well. . .  
  
Farore, It's a statue of myself.  
  
The hair, the build, the horse, everything is the same. The stupid fountain even has my facial features. The only things it does have wrong is that I have never once in my life worn actual armor, or that the strange bandana-helmet thing he is wearing. The bandana-helmet thing comes across his forehead like a bandana would, and continues around to the back. But around the temples, it branches off and comes downward, towards his jaw. Then it curves and catches against his chin, almost like a chin guard. The armor that he wears is a plated armor that covers every inch of his arms and legs, and even runs all the way up to his neck, connecting to the jaw area of the bandana-helmet. In one hand he carries the Master Sword, tilted at an angle down towards the ground, while his other hand holds the reins of the horse he's riding. He's looking more toward the corner of the floor area, but his eyes are directed slightly at the staircase. Even the horse is looking that way, although it's more obvious on the creature than the master.  
  
The horse seems to be in the process of running, her rider on her back and her feet in motion. Water sprouts from several spots beneath the horse's feet, foaming and swirling around her hooves. The whole fountain is encased by a circular stone edge that catches the water and allows it to pool. All except for that which escapes through the crack on the left side.  
  
"Link, is that. . .you?" I hear Quistis' voice behind me, but I don't answer.  
  
I move closer to the statue, right up close to it. It's even got that same Goddess damned scar that I have. The one that tainted me in the first place. The only spot where Diablo actually made physical contact with me. Sure, he burned me a few Times, but nothing as bad as that. . .  
  
When Tyrael found me. . .I'm still surprised I was able to survive. . .  
  
I follow the long curving scar with my eyes, remembering how it ran - runs - down my neck in the same fashion.  
  
Heh, I was sure bleeding a lot. Diablo's claws can cause a lot of damage. . .  
  
It curves around the neck from the back to the front, and then travels downwards until it stops just before the solar plexus. It's deep, even on this statue. . .  
  
"Link?"  
  
[Yeah, this is me. . .but why? Why is a statue of me here?] I answered Quistis' question, but I also added one of my own. Why would there be a statue? It's definitely me, no doubt about that, it even has the Master Sword, and a Triforce mark on the statue's left hand. The horse resembles Epona in shape and size, and even some of the discolorations of the stone match her old markings.  
  
. . .I loved that horse.  
  
"Maybe we should continue on? And what are we looking for anyway?" asks Seifer, slightly hesitant in his questioning. I think he's surprised, finding a statue of me and all. I certainly know that I'm surprised. Shocked, even.  
  
[We're. . .I'm not exactly sure what we're looking for,] Seifer sighs audibly and I scratch the back of my head, despite the fact I don't have a back to my head, never mind a front to it either. Old habits die hard. [I. . .I always just stumbled upon things. Accidentally. So. . . This could take a little while. . .]  
  
Everyone falters at the last part, and Zell mutters something about not having enough Time. Quistis rubs her temples, and Seifer stretches excessively, as if trying to make a point. Zell however, turns to face me, still missing his usual grin. I guess it's from all this death and gloom surrounding the situation around Squall. It's tragic, truth be told, but I'm surprised that it has so effectively taken the grin away from even Zell. From what I know, it's hard to get him down, and I had somewhat expected him to try to find some lighter side to our little expedition. I guess even the overly cheerful have their downs.  
  
"Well, better get searching," Zell states, walking over across the way to the stairs on the opposite side of the flat. Quistis goes to the right of the fountain, and seems to been interested in it's base. Seifer however, moves to the left of the fountain, and checks the rubble for anything. I catch him looking at me out of the corner of his eye often. I guess he really wasn't lying when he said he wouldn't let me out of his sight.  
  
I start towards the first staircase - I'm curious about those signs by the arch - but for some strange reason, my eyes keep getting drawn back to the fountain. I suppose it's only natural that a statue shaped like me and my old horse (the old part is so hard to think) is kind of a distractant. I wonder how the people made this knew about me and Epona. But then again, the armor suggests it's someone else. Someone who happens to look exactly like me, and have a horse like mine. And my sword. But it couldn't be me, I never came to this world before - Argh! This makes no sense!  
  
Actually, now that I think of it, knowing all the puzzles I have come across to get this far, "My Blue Heaven" is probably a hint of some sorts. But what? My Blue Heaven? What around here is blue?  
  
Oh, great. I forgot. I'm bloody color blind in this form. This is just perfect. If something doesn't appear to be grey or black, than it looks dark blue to me. Or maybe red, if I'm lucky. Heck, almost everything is blue (a gloomy shade of course. Can't be a ghost without gloomy shades).  
  
Okay, there's got to be a way around this. What should be blue around here?  
  
Of course. The water. Water is blue (at least the last time I checked).  
  
But "My Blue Heaven"?  
  
We got the "Blue" (at least I hope we do), now for the "Heaven". And the "My" part. The water. . .but what about the water?  
  
My Blue Heaven. . .  
  
I float above the ground, towards the statue. There's got to be something about the fountain, maybe a lever or a switch. Like a secret passage beneath or something. Maybe a button that will open up the way forward. Some kind of key?  
  
Then again, I could be totally wrong about it having anything to do with water whatsoever.  
  
My Blue Heaven. . .  
  
I hear the soft sound of footsteps and that of something crumbling. . .  
  
Like old stone. . .  
  
I look up and see that no one has moved from their general area, and also that no one has found anything. None of them seemed to have heard anything either, so maybe it's just my imagination.  
  
But, after all these years, you'd think that I'd be able to differ between imagination and reality. . .  
  
Then again, a part of me still sees her, so. . .  
  
My Blue Heaven. . .  
  
Another noise, from above. I glance up, but see nothing. I'd think again that it's just me, but this time the others look up too. Seifer casts a suspicious glance at me, and I roll my eyes. How could I be doing anything? I can't even touch the ground lest I go right through it, and for me to plan anything is just ridiculous. Who does he think he is, anyway?  
  
I glance back at the statue.  
  
My Blue Heaven. . .  
  
The water, but what else? What else? What's the Heaven part? The "My" must refer to me, so something to do with the statue itself. But what about Heaven? . . .Maybe something to do with the Pandemonium Fortress? That's Heaven's last stronghold before the Gates of Hell, or so Tyrael told me himself. That's the only part of Heaven I ever got to see, so what about the statue represents that?  
  
Suddenly, I realize, it's eerily quiet. The air seems dead and heavy, like there's no wind. I can't even hear the others scrounging around. I turn and see them there, but they're still looking. Not a word escapes them. I wish someone or something would break the silence, kill that heaviness before it consumes us.  
  
My wish is answered, but not by a pleasurable source. A loud scream echoes about the tower, fierce and deadly. It cries of death and destruction, pain and agony. It reminds me of the screams and begging of those trapped in Hell as I passed through. But, I could never take them out with me, no matter how hard I wished. No one who has entered Hell by Death's will can escape again. They pleaded and begged and I felt like dying right there, as I saw the wounds and burns on them from their torture. Scars, both emotional and physical, never mind mental. They say, that to go to Hell you have to do something horrible, something without mercy or love. What could these people have done to deserve something so horrible? If anyone, it was I who deserved to be in those stocks, or being burnt by an endless flame, never truly dying, just enduring the pain. It was me who failed these people, me who sent them here. I was too late.  
  
Hero of Time? Hero out of Time is more like it.  
  
This scream cried of the horrors of Hell and death, and like on a breeze, it was followed by two lesser screams. Neither were as loud or as heartbreaking as that first cry, and I doubt I will hear anything like that again. Sorrowful and mourning, it fades off into the quiet, and the silence returns, as heavy as ever.  
  
Quickly, I turn and face the others, only to see that their gaze is directed upward. I follow it, only to see a white figure cloaked with red jumping down towards us, followed by two others. The first hits the ground hard, falling into a kneeling position between me and the others. It rises slowly as it's companions fall (closer to me that to the others, who have grouped together), and I am not entirely surprised to see it's an armed skeleton. What else could wail of death than something that experienced it first hand?   
  
In one hand, it carries a long dark sword, as does it's allies. The three of them are identical, swords, red tattered capes and black cloth boots and all, except the first one, the leader is obviously larger. Rotten, black flesh hangs to their long dead corpses as they're empty eyes stare out at us. The sockets are barren and pitch black, but the distinctive impression that they can still see is prominent, and it almost feels like their invisible eyes are sizing each one of us up. Searching us for weaknesses and flaws, the frailty that makes us mortal. Their capes blow with an invisible wind, as the fall slowly into widely spaced fighting stances. One of the smaller ones looks back and spots me, and immediately it turns and launches itself at me.   
  
At first, I do not panic. I'm a ghost, how can it hurt me? But as it continues to come at me, I start wondering if I should move, for caution's sake. As the creature closes in and I prepare to dodge in a direction of my choice (decisions, decisions), Zell comes out of nowhere and tackles the thing in midair. The two of them go rolling off to the side, and I hear a familiar whip crack.  
  
Seifer and Quistis have both drawn their weapons and are fighting back the skeletons with expertise, landing blow after blow. It's just unfortunate that these strange creatures also seem to be experts at parrying attacks, and when Quistis' whip happens to get tangled around one of their swords, the being uses this to it's full advantage, pulling her towards it. She gasps loudly, caught by surprise, and the creature grabs a hold of her by the throat with one hand, and drops it's sword to have it's other hand across her stomach, holding down her arms in the process. It's skeletal, claw hands clamp down tightly on her skin and she struggles to move out of it's grasp and escape.  
  
Zell to my left is still struggling with the third creature, punching it hard in it's boney face until a loud cracking is heard, and it's skull collapses inwards, causing dust and bone to drift from it's face. Zell smiles, but the being -  
  
The Forbidden, I tell myself, the name coming from nowhere, but that no longer surprises me.  
  
-seems to take no notice of it's handicap. It reaches up to Zell's collar with a speed that I can barely see, and hoists him into the air with one clawed hand. Zell's face is white with the dust of the Forbidden's little explosion, and he looks absolutely revolted from this creature's lack of feeling. That and the fine coating of bone he now sports unwillingly.  
  
". . .Um, Seifer? A little help?" he calls to the Gunblader, gasping for air. He's grabbing at his opponent's claws, but the grip is too tight for him to undo with his lessening amount of oxygen. He calls again, but Seifer's too busy trying to free Quistis.  
  
The Forbidden holding her has a tight grip on her throat, holding her windpipe tight enough that it is standing out from the rest of her neck. And it seems very reluctant to let go. Seifer's trying to fight his way to free the instructor, but the second forbidden keeps cutting him off as his partner in crime is slowly strangling it's captive. Every time Seifer darts forward, the Forbidden blocks him and parries his attack.  
  
I feel so useless. . .If I could at least fight, I could be a distractant for them, but I can't hold a weapon or anything. . .but wait.  
  
I can make noise. A lot of it.  
  
I cross my arms in front of me and yell as loud as I can. My voice, or whatever echoes at a screechingly loud volume, and I can only hope this works. It's very stupid, I admit, but it might just distract them enough to get Quistis and Zell free. I force myself to think of every bad memory I have, every stupid decision and every failure. My hatred, my fears. Every nightmare, every death I have ever seen. . .They are all poured into that, that and my willingness to overcome.  
  
[STOP!]  
  
And surprisingly, everyone stops. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I attack the damn huge Forbidden again, but that smaller shit gets in my way, for like the fiftieth time. Oh, how I'm going to rip that little fucking piece of shit to shreds. . .Bone by bone. . .  
  
Quistis mumbles something, but the largest of the Forbiddens tightens it's grip on her throat and she releases a muffled scream. It's claws press into her skin, the sharp tips draw blood from her unprotected, upturned neck. His other claw digs into her stomach, and another muffled scream can be heard, followed by her desperate attempts to get air.  
  
Fuck, she's turning blue. . .  
  
I launch myself yet again, seeking any flaw in these creature's defense, when suddenly, a yell echoes through the air. At first, I fear it's another Forbidden (We're having enough trouble with three, goddamn it), when I realize the shout is entire different. It doesn't wail, it's not a scream, and instead of terror and despair in it, there's determination and hope. It's no wordless scream like the Forbidden's call, but an actual shout.  
  
[STOP!]  
  
Looking up, I see that it's Link who yelled. And amazingly, I'm not the only one whose's stopped, but all the Forbidden's, Zell, and even though Quistis can't turn around and look, her blue eyes are wide open, not with fear but with surprise.  
  
Maybe that boy is good for something after all. It's also one of the cheesiest things I have ever heard of, but not only did it work, but it's probably all he can do. Eh, I'll. . .let him go on this one.  
  
I run forward and take advantage of everyone's shock. The distraction won't last long as Link's already stopped, and I've got to work fast. Ploughing into the creature holding Quistis, I get it to drop her, then I draw my gunblade. The instructor drops to her knees, gasping harshly, but at least she's free and not dead. She can't complain about that (though Lord knows that she's gonna try) The larger Forbidden prepares for my attack, at least until it realizes it dropped it's weapon earlier to hold Quistis. I can feel the beginnings of a smug smile on my face as, with trench coat flapping behind me wildly in the sudden wind, my blade strikes into the skeletal chest of my opponent, and he goes flying back, a nice, very unclean cut separating his ribs into two very unequal halves. He lands on the ground harshly, and I hear a crack. A loud, earsplitting snap that brings a tingle to my flesh.   
  
I always hated the sound of bones breaking. . .Gives me these goosebumps. . .  
  
Before I have time to run and help Zell, or at least make sure that the Forbidden is dead, I feel a burning pain down my back. I fall forward, the realization slowly sinking in that I'm bleeding. I guess that other Forbidden was able to overcome it's surprise and found me with my pants down, so to speak. I turn over as quickly as I can with my back so sore, only to come face to face with the monster that struck me down. I watch as it raises it's sword, and I struggle to find my gunblade which I dropped sometime during my fall.   
  
I swear, that if skeletons could smile, this son of a fucking bitch would be laughing now.  
  
Before he could bring down his sword and impale me into the ground, a loud crack rips through the air, and his sword is pulled back away from me.  
  
About time. Saving her did have a purpose.  
  
As the Forbidden struggles to bring down it's weapon, I finally find my gunblade and slash across the thing's boney hips, shredding through the old limbs and causing the thing to fall. It's still alive, but with it being distracted and crudely amputated, I find myself with plenty of time to get up and brush myself off before taking my gunblade to it's neck.   
  
Maybe destroying it's spine will keep it down.  
  
My equivalence of decapitation seems to have killed the skeleton, and I cross my arms and sigh. It isn't until I hear a loud thud from behind me that I realize that Zell's still in trouble. I turn to find him being crushed by the one remaining Forbidden into the lip of the fountain. He tries in vain to reach and punch his attacker, but telling by the large bruises on his head and neck, and the multitude of cuts and scrapes, he's probably a little light headed now. Both myself and Quistis run over to him, over the dead bodies of the two defeated Forbidden's, and try to get in between Zell and the skeleton. We finally succeed as Quistis lashes her whip, with the automatic loud crack, and manages to wrap the thing around the creature's neck.  
  
I am seriously going to thank her for her skills after this. Who knew a whip could be so handy for outside the bedroom?  
  
With a mighty jerk, she pulls it's head back away from Zell, and by doing so giving me a great opportunity to disintegrate it's arched spine. A thundering crack, and the thing falls dead, crumbling into dust and making Zell all the more dirtier. He looks positively pale, and injured, but I've got too much adrenaline running through my system to care at this point.  
  
"Finally! A bit of excitement on this stupid trip," I say, laughing loudly.  
  
~*~  
  
I watch as Seifer laughs, and I find myself glad to see Zell and Quistis alright, bruised and bloody, but alive. Zell looks on the verge of losing consciousness, but that's a small price to pay for life. I am about to join in the celebrations just as a sound whispers from behind me. The sound of cloth scraping stone.   
  
Those Forbiddens had cloth boots. Damnit! I turn and stare face to face with the largest of the three Forbiddens, who, despite a broken shoulder blade and no remaining chest, charges at me with one arm gimped from it's injuries. It no longer has it's weapon, but it seems that it is fine with using it's broken arm as a battering tool. Time seems to slow and I can't seem to move fast enough, yet the Forbidden doesn't have any problems whatsoever.  
  
It can't hurt me, I'm already dead. . .sorta. . .  
  
Before I have a chance to react, the skeleton bashes into me and to my surprise, actually sends me flying. I hit into the statue behind me, and instead of going through it, as I should, I find my left hand resting on the figure's own left hand (and my back painfully twisted across the saddle. Or at least it would be painful, but as a ghost I can't feel anything).   
  
This shouldn't be happening. I'm a ghost! They can't touch me! Can they. . .?  
  
I try to get up, but a burning sensation - the first real sensation I've had since I was sealed so long ago - begins in my left hand, the one covering the statue's own hand, and it spreads quickly, violently even, up my arm and into my chest. The fiery ache stretches and grows until I loose sight and the world goes black. And finally I understand.  
  
My Blue Heaven. . .  
  
~*~ 


	7. Chapter VI The Bloody Tower

Act I : Trial of a Man  
  
Chapter VI - The Bloody Tower  
  
~*~   
  
When I come to again (I didn't even know that ghosts can black out), I'm on the stone floor of some dungeon like place. It takes me a moment, but the memories slowly return as I push myself up off the ground. Or float, rather, as I am once again painfully aware of a lack of existence in my being ever since that burning left me. It was incredibly wonderful to feel again, even if it was some strange form of pain, but also horribly addictive.  
  
I find myself in a small L shaped room, completely made of stone. There is an open door at each end, but it's hard to see beyond that due to the darkness of the room. There's no lights in here and my ghostly vision isn't adjusting quick enough.Wait a minute, what do I care? It's not like I can stumble and break my shin on something.  
  
Floating slowly forward, I look for any sign of the others. Eventually I start calling for them when I can't see them anywhere. Nothing but stone hallways greet me, cloaked in the cover of darkness. Endless and twisting, I float along until Time itself seems meaningless, it's always one more hallway after another. And never a single torch. Just complete blackness. The walls never change, there is never anything more than openings where torches should be placed, and lit, but those are empty and dark.   
  
I continue forward through these halls that never split or turn. It's always straight forward, and I continue on with a fair pace as I call to the others. My words echo throughout the ancient chambers, and I wonder what could have happened.  
  
Where the Hell could they be?  
  
I pass yet another empty indent for a torch when the scenery finally changes. Something long and dark lays across my path, and before I have even reached it, I know what the object is.   
  
A long, stretched out corpse of a horned goat man (one of the goat Clans, but since I can't see his color I can't tell which Clan) lay on the floor, twisted with the final agonizing throes of death. Surprisingly enough, there's no blood, but yet there are multiple markings that indicate that it died of violent injuries. The large stab wounds on the back and on the chest, especially the one that has nearly separated his neck from his body suggest that he was in a fierce fight. The connection to the skull was not completely severed, so the head remains on by a simple chord of flesh. One arm is broken and sitting at an unnatural angle, caught between the creature's back and the floor. One of it's legs appears to be dislocated. I'm sure that if I could touch it's mutilated body (like I would want to), that the muscles would be cold and stiff.   
  
Death has claimed this creature a while ago, but the flesh has not yet even begun to rot and decay. Which means that someone (or something, I remind myself bleakly) had to have come this way and killed it. How they managed to do it without spilling any blood is beyond me, though.  
  
So I turn my back on the dead goat man and back to the path ahead. It's still just as dark as before, and I wonder briefly where the heck I am. I can hardly see anything, only what is nearby, but it seems so familiar and yet so new to me that I'm not really sure what to believe. So, without much of a choice, I continue ahead and think to myself if I should have gone the other way, the opposite door from that L shaped room.  
  
A heavy silence has lain on me ever since I woke up, and nothing in these halls does anything to destroy that quiet. I hate such quiet, though I am used to it. It would be okay, if I was supposed to be alone, but I am trying to find Zell and Quistis and Seifer and if anything, those people are not quiet. As I have no feet, I cannot hear the comforting echo of my own boots. I have no mouth, no nose, so I cannot hear my own breathing. It's far too quiet. . .However, I can make noise.  
  
I try to hum a tune I still remember from my days of actual living. What was it called again?  
  
Ah yes. "My dear, sweet Raissa".  
  
It's an old tune, or so I was told by the man in Lut Gholein who taught it to me. It had something to do with a girl (Raissa was her name) who went off to war. She was an accomplished archer and warrior, and as almost any tale goes, she fell in love with a man she worked with. And off course in the end she died, and they could never be together. It was the common everyday tragic love tale, nothing really special, but it's stuck in my head ever since I learnt it.   
  
It's got this nice catchy tune that I try to imitate, but in my current form it comes out all distorted and creepy. For the sake of my sanity I let the last note hang and then fall, leaving it to die in the air. It lingers for a while, until the silence comes back, as oppressive and loathsome as ever. It's just not the same without Zell and Seifer arguing, or Quistis bossing them around. But they have to be here somewhere, right?   
  
Unless I came here alone, which would be bad. That would put me basically back to square one: alone, and without my body or the physicality to unseal myself.  
  
I am just about to begin berating myself on how I should have been more careful during the fight, so that I wouldn't have gotten separated from the others when a noise echoes in the long dark halls from somewhere far ahead.  
  
Drip. . .  
  
. . .   
  
Drip. . .  
  
Well, something's got a terrible leak. But it's a change, so maybe I ought to head towards it? Maybe the others are there. . .  
  
Drip. . .  
  
I head towards the source of the drip, somewhere in the hall before me. It's still faint, so it's far away yet. Of course, in my anxiousness to find a way out of this freaky place, it comes as no surprise as I find myself speeding towards that place, hope rising in my chest. If the others are there. . .  
  
I go through hall after hall, the sound slowly becoming louder, more pronounced. And suddenly I stop.  
  
Drip. . .   
  
And think.  
  
If the others were there, I would be able to hear them talking. But there is no noise other than that drip. Surely their voices (especially Zell's) would be louder than some dripping noise, right? They would be looking for me, right? Doing something like calling, or searching, but. . .  
  
Drip. . .  
  
It's too quiet. The hope dies in my chest and fades so that I do not remember if it even really existed at all. That feeling is replaced with despair, a terrible haunting case there of. I have a sudden horrible feeling, such dread that I am once again at fault here. They better be alright, somewhere far ahead. Past that drip. Beyond these walls, at that final door that leads outside.   
  
They can't still be in here.   
  
They can't.   
  
Hesitantly, I continue forward again, the drip getting louder with each hall I pass. I watch as I float above the stone floor towards the next door, wondering what I will see. Each Time I reach that new door, another identical hall greets me with it's empty bleakness and untrustworthy shadows. Again I go through, and come to yet another doorway, and again on the other side, nothing butemptiness greets me.  
  
Another door, another hall, a cycle that repeats until, the drips end. And before me waits a tall iron door, dwarfing me in sheer height and width. I stop and gaze at it for a brief moment, before my resolve strengthens and I pass right through that door. I pass through the thick layers of steel as if they were nothing more than a mist, an illusion. The world on the other side of that door is pitch black, impossible for the slightest light to shine.  
  
I float forwards slowly, wary of the dangers in the blackness that I can't see or hear. I never did like pitch black rooms, I always seem to hit a rough spot with them (though I doubt anything can really hurt me in this form). Someone or something appears and tries to killme. . .common, expected, but still unpleasant.  
  
The stillness in this invisible room leaves me thinking that I'm alone in here, but I have a feeling I'm not. . .  
  
Drip.  
  
At the sound, five torches lit all around me. Two behind me, one on each side of the door. Another two, one on my left, the other on my right. And finally the one directly in front of me, the fifth one, slowest of them all to act, flickered to life. Though they were lit, it took seemingly an eternity for them to reveal the insides of the room, their light slowly stretching across the floor. Suddenly, though the light is far too dim to make out anything, all five torches flash as one, and the room fills with and orange yellow light.   
  
. . .Revealing to me the three bodies of my companions. And unlike the goat man I found earlier, there's blood. Lots.   
  
Seifer, his body broken and bloody. Flesh torn and open, revealing the still bleeding wounds for all eyes to see. His one remaining hand (the other is no where in sight, leaving only the shredded socket) reaches out for Quistis' corpse, several feet away from him. The bottom left side of his face has been devoured by something, leaving the bone peering from the wound. Both his eyes have been removed by sharp objects, like claws or knives. One is completely gone, while the other rests in the curvature of his neck, it's nerves and blood vessels still attached. The dead eye almost seems to stare at me from it's comfortable position on the collar of his 'new' white trench coat, which is now bloody and still damp.  
  
Zell rests less than five feet to his right, laying on his stomach. Only the back of his body is visible, except for one side of his face, which has had all the skin carefully pealed away from it, showing the network of nerves and veins and arteries and muscles. In the middle of his back, there is a large hole that continues right through to the other side. It looks like a sword injury, like he was impaled on one. His left leg is badly scored and covered in blood. It's almost unidentifiable as a leg now. It's more of a bloody stump.  
  
Quistis is closer to Seifer than Zell, and she's laying in a large offering bowl, filled to the brim with blood. The bowl sits upon a podium, giving it a leverage of four to five feet off the ground. Some of it is hers, some of it belongs to others, but no matter who's it is, it's dying the color of her clothing with the thick liquid. She's on her back, head and legs hang over the edges of the podium, limp. Her throat's been completely torn from her neck, and her skin bathes in it's own blood. Her wrists have been violently slit, and there's a hole going from one of her temples through to the other, looking like someone skewered her with something small and sharp. Her hair hangs over the edge of the bowl and dangles above the floor.   
  
Drip. . .  
  
Another drop of blood drips from her hair to the floor. The noise of it bursting upon impact is magnified by the stone walls, seeming loud and ominous.   
  
I stare in horror at them (I've seen so much death before but it's always so much worse when it's someone you know), and I float back a little. My mouth agape, it's all I can do to just stand there and try to comprehend what I'm seeing. A small part of me (a part that always makes itself so well known during death) screams that this is just a joke, they're alright and they're just trying to get a reaction out of me. But the rest of me knows the truth. This is too real to be a lie.  
  
Drip. . .  
  
I hear the sound of something moving stealthily above me, and as I glance up I'm just able to make out two bright red eyes as something falls down on me. I fight to get up, but the owner of the eyes (lacking pupils or whites) simply laughs as he raises one hand. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I bolt awake, realizing with a start that it was all a dream. . .Nothing more than a dream. . .  
  
The first thing I do is scan my surroundings. Beside me sit Seifer and Quistis, one on each side, while Zell is over by the wall of the room (an L shaped room, I can't help but notice, complete with the old dungeon look). Seeing them alive and well is a great relief on me. I though they were dead. . .Zell's shadow boxing again, punching the air in front of him several Times, then he stops and just dances from foot to foot before starting again.  
  
Seifer and Quistis snap their heads in my direction as I sit up, then slowly face Zell. He continues boxing for a moment, before he notices all the eyes on him. He stops and sees me, before jogging over, his strange shoes making loud thuds on the.  
  
"You're awake!" he practically shouts and I nod. No one says anything and I take that it means I'm supposed to make the next move.  
  
[What happened?]  
  
"We were going to ask you," Quistis responds, looking at me curiously. I shake my head and sigh. I know what happened, but not why it happened. I look up at her and try to explain.  
  
[Remember the signs that said "My Blue Heaven"?] everyone but Seifer nods, he's too interested in suddenly cleaning his gunblade. I continue, trying to take no notice of him, [Well, "My" referred to me, well, the statue version of me. "Blue" referred to the water, and "Heaven" was the symbol of the Triforce on the statue me's hands. When that Forbidden knocked me back, I landed on the horse, and I touched the statue's hand. Somehow, even without my piece of the Triforce, the gate activated and let us through.]  
  
"Hold on," Seifer says, suddenly glancing up and catching my eyes with his glare, still holding his gublade in his lap, "Triforce? What the fuck's that?" I am just about to answer when he interupts me, "What else have you been keeping from us? Huh?"  
  
[Well, um, this is going to be a little hard to believe-]  
  
"And everything else you've told us hasn't been?" Seifer said, mockingly. I glare at him, and he grins smugly back. I am sure that if I could, I would have punched him in the face long ago. Then again, he probably would've punched me too.  
  
"Seifer, shut up," Quistis says curtly, before turning back to face me again, "Okay, so, continue."  
  
[Where I came from, there was this really long legend about a sacred relic called the Triforce. Now, I won't repeat it exactly to you, as I personally, have heard each of the variations of the legends enough Times to make up my own myth about it. Anyway, it is said that the Three Golden Goddesses-] Seifer mumbles something about 'grandiose', and Quistis whispers harshly for him to be quiet, [-made the land, and as they left, they left behind a connection to the Heavens. It's called the Triforce, as there are three small triangle piecesthat make up one bigger triangle, with a larger triangle space left out in the center. Now, three Goddesses, and each one holds power over different things: Courage and Power and Wisdom, and each one has little subdivisions. Courage has Hope, Determination, Strength, Love, Friendship, Bravery-] Zell murmurs something about that being obvious and Quistis gives him a light smack to the back of the head, [Sacrifice and Loyalty. Power and Wisdom too had their own subdivisions.]  
  
"So? What does any of that crap have to do with what happened?" Seifer comments, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
[Oh, keep your shit on,] I say for Quistis, and she gives me a discrete wink, [Anyway, someone who is perfectly balanced, could touch the Triforce and gain all three pieces. Then they could walk the land with the combined powers, becoming almost like a deity. That and, they could make one wish and only one wish, and it would come true. They were sort of an avatar for the Goddesses, or so the legends tell.]  
  
"So, you're saying they could wish for anything, and it would automatically granted?" asked Quistis, looking interested in the story, while Seifer looked bored and Zell looked off in Lala land.  
  
[Yes. Anything. But, in my Time, that didn't happen. No, instead, the man who laid his vile hands on it was more concerned with Power than anything else. So, the relic of the Goddesses separated. He got power, the Princess got Wisdom, and I got Courage. He hunted us down to get the remaining pieces, and at one point, he was so close. We almost lost.]  
  
"And why is that? What ever would have happened? It wasn't like the pieces were still up for grabs." Seifer, mockingly states as he continues to clean the gunblade that's lying still on his lap. It's already clean, immaculate even, but he seems almost obsessed with it's shine.  
  
[Well, it is possible to steal the pieces away from another chosen. I'm not sure how. However, if a person then touches the reunited Triforce, no matter if they were one of the Chosen or not, then they could make the wish. And it would be granted.]  
  
"Wait a minute! Hold on here! Couldn't the Goddesses just like, say 'No you can't have your wish because you didn't carry it, or something?'" Zell asked, dropping to the floor next to us and immediately crossing his legs. He waves his arms spontaneously in the air as he speaks, "Like, why would they let something like that happen? I mean, they chose you guys for a reason."  
  
[Well,] I spoke, or thought, - or whatever it is I do - out loud, [I'm not really sure. I guess. . .Maybe it's like a gift or something. Like you've done so much to get this far, so we'll give you a wish for your effort.]  
  
"An A for effort. Makes sense." I shoot a glance at Seifer, wondering what the heck he means. 'A for effort?' What could he possibly mean by that? I voice my question to him, and he smiles that same Goddess awful smile at me, "Like a grading of their performance. You know, like how a teacher would." I don't tell him that I never went to school, nor that I only partly get what he just said. Somethings are better left unspoken.  
  
[Oh, I see. . .Another thing it could be though, is like a little bit of free will. Whoever can reach it can change things to their specifications. It would let the people do what they want, so to speak, but I guess the Goddesses would still keep a discrete eye on things.]  
  
"That would make sense," Quistis says, slowly standing up and dusting off her long skirt. She looks at each one of us slowly, almost as if she's studying us before she suggests, "Maybe we should continue on? The sooner we can find your body, the sooner we can leave."  
  
"Speaking of which," Seifer faces away from Quistis and back to me, "Any clue where you were sealed? Or shall we just search about randomly hoping someone comes along and tells us where to go?"  
  
[I think I would remember were I was sealed. It's a ways though, so would you guys like to head to an encampment first? It's been a while, but since I was sealed, I guess the people had to move there instead.]  
  
"What do you mean?" asks Zell, facing away from me as he gets up quickly, far faster than Quistis did. I guess it's from all that bouncing around he does. That's got to be good exercise.  
  
[Well, to the north, there's this place called the Monastery, over in a place called the Tamoe Plains. It was once a thriving community, but it was attacked and the people who survived had to flee. Anyway, so when I came along, I helped to clear the place out and the people were going to move back once the last of the monsters were defeated. But, at the end of everything, Tyrael came and sealed me there, so I suppose they stayed at their encampment. I really don't know, as well, that's about when I was sealed. I guess it's an actual town there now.] I shrug.  
  
"We might as well get this done and over with. So, take us to where you were sealed, and hurry. This is getting old, fast," Seifer replies lazily, stretching long and hard as he too, gets up. He stands almost wearily, leaning slightly on the gunblade. I give him a curious glance, but he simply rolls his eyes at me and walks quickly to catch up to the others, who have already headed to the door (one of the doors, I notice with a sigh). I think I know where we are, so things are going to be fairly easy. I don't think there is much of anything that can stand up to us, at least monster wise. Most of the creatures from Diablo's reign are most likely dead.   
  
What I'm more concerned about is what Tyrael could have left behind for us. I've never fought anything that was ever remotely on Heaven's side (except that Fallen Angel, Izual, but I doubt they left an Angel behind to guard me). Whatever Tyrael probably used is probably strong, and probably devil free. He wouldn't use something with a demonic background. And of course, he's probably created a few traps here and there. As long as we're careful. . .  
  
We head through the door, and into a long hall (this entire place has the old stone wall dungeon look to it), with another door for a hall across from us, and another one a little farther to our right. The doorway we came through is on the farthest part of the left side of the room. If I remember correctly, there's another door to our right, creating a bit of a mirror image of the other wall. Down at the very far right end of this hall, there should be a wall, and two small halls that go past that barrier, creating another room behind. And there should be a staircase there that leads upwards, and eventually out.  
  
In this room, there are many beautifully carved stone pillars (some are even built into the wall, as I think they might also be on the upper floors) that hold up against the roof and sparse lighting from the far spaced torches, gives this place a look of long lost elegancy. There, at one end, is a large offering dish (much like the one I found Quistis in during my dream, and it's full of blood too). The others wait for me to direct them, and that's what I do. I lead them down to the far right side of the room, and through one of the two halls. They seem not really to notice the blood smeared on the walls and floor, except Quistis takes occasional disgusted glances. Wait till they see the bodies I left behind last Time I was here.  
  
We climb up the stairs and onto the next floor. There's more torches here so it's slightly brighter up here, and less blood about, so the atmosphere is a bit nicer. Immediately there is a fork in the path, and Seifer gives me a mocking bow to indicate that I'm the guide here, so that I should get moving.   
  
Oh, I hate this part. I can't remember, was it left - I gaze to the left, and I'm vaguely aware that everyone else looks down that way as well - or is it to the right? Again everyone's gaze follows mine. Now, let's see. This whole underground tower is the Forgotten Tower, and I'd remember this place anywhere. It's only five floors deep, and right now we're on about the fourth floor. There should - if my memory serves me right - be a staircase somewhere to the. . .left. I start floating in that direction, and with a slight hesitation, I can hear the sound of several footfalls following me. As we're walking, I can hear the others whispering behind me, discussing who knows what. And why would I care? If it's not loud enough for me to hear, than it's not meant for me.  
  
"Um, Link?" I hear Quistis ask from behind me, "I have a question. Well, two actually."  
  
"Come on people!" Seifer shouts, "What is this? "Let's ask Link" day? Can we please just keep moving?"  
  
"What, Seifer, does this place scare you? Does it- ACK!" Zell had to dodge Seifer's fist to the face before the comment was half done. Despite my sour mood, being back here, the scene of so many of my old, weak nightmares, their antics brought a smile to my face.   
  
[Go on Quistis.]  
  
"Well, my first question is: why could the Forbiddens touch you? I mean, we can't, but they did," she shrugs, "I just don't see any logic in it at all."  
  
[I. . .don't know. Maybe, because they were - are - dead?] I shrug, [It could be a number of things, I guess.]  
  
"I suppose," she says, trying her damnedest to look me hard in the eyes, "And another thing, what exactly is this place?"  
  
I look at her, surprised, [Oh. I thought. . .no. That's right, we were talking about other things. Well, there used to be a Countess who lived here. Anyway she did all these strange, horrific things, one of the one's I heard was she bathed in the blood of a hundred virgins-]  
  
"Now why on earth would anyone want to do that?" Seifer mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear.  
  
[I don't know. Maybe she thought it kept her young, or something. Anyway, somehow her tower collapsed, and her threat ended. So, when I came to this world, I found a moldy old tome stating the legend of her, her bloodlust, and her greed.]  
  
"And let me guess, you assumed 'greed' meant 'treasure'?" Quistis asks, slightly hesitant as she catches a glimpse of a rotting old skeleton sitting against a section of the wall. I remember that monster. Bloody tried to back stab me using her arrows. I still don't know why that Vile Archer didn't try to shoot me. Maybe her bow was broken. Anyway, I got her good with a half broken javalin I found on the ground.   
  
[Well, I really needed the money. . .so I decided that maybe I should check it out.]  
  
Suddenly, as if upon a whim, Zell turned his attention back towards me and away from the mosaic of blood and bones on the floor, "Didja come here alone? Or did you have a friend or sumpthin'?"  
  
"Zell, he's told us befor-"   
  
[Yeah. She was more of a mercenary than a friend, but we got a long pretty well.]  
  
"Oh, well, what happened to her?" Quistis asked, stopping where she stood, forcing the rest of us to stop as well. I turned to face her and saw that she had her arms crossed and she looked ready for a long discussion.  
  
"Yeah, did you two get like together and-"  
  
"Seifer!" Quistis interrupted.  
  
[Nah. She died in here actually. She kept going ahead, and eventually when we got attacked, she and I were separated, so when I went to rescue her, well, there were just too many monsters in the way. That, was of course when there were still monsters in here. Nothing now, or at least, very few.]  
  
"Oh." And that was it. End of discussion. No one offered a word after that, not even as we climbed the stairs up to the next floor. It took me a moment to remember, but soon again we were on the right track. I think that this place was one of the shortest labyrinths that I had come across in this world. Like, it didn't take me long to get down here in the first place. And of course, back then I had a map so the escape of this Hellhole was simple and quick. It was mostly cleared out by then, I only ran into one or two monsters on the way out.  
  
Geez, how I wish someone would bloody talk already. I suppose they're being quiet because what I said about Amplisa, the Rogue I hired from Kashya, the Rogue's tactical leader. I remember Amplisa well. The way she would always lighten up the atmosphere with a joke, or run ahead, laughing as she went to 'scout'. By the Time I would catch up with her, she'd still be laughing, surrounded by a ring of dead bodies. She was very good with that bow of hers. She could snipe things so far away that I hadn't even heard them yet, and kill them in one simple shot. She could see them, before I, the one with the huge ears, could hear them.  
  
I remember one Time specifically, when I was feeling really down about being trapped in this world. I did my best to hide it though, I didn't want to be a pain, or bring down her spirits. But she noticed, and she did her best to cheer me up. And it worked, too. I guess, I envied her. Seriously, there I was, some twenty year old who was trapped away from his world. Big deal, huh? And there was she. The Sister's of the Sightless Eye, a.k.a, the Rogues, were kicked out from their home not all that long before I arrived. And despite all that, the exile of her people, and the idea of fighting their own, corrupted sisters, there she was, always laughing, always smiling. Even when she died, somewhere in the Forgotten Tower, she died laughing. The Skeleton that struck her down met my own lade shortly after. I was furious. She was not meant to die then! It couldn't have been her Time! She was still smiling!  
  
As we near the next floor, I see yet more lit torches, and, in my desperation to forget what happened to the young Rogue here so long ago, I ask myself my usual question: who keeps these torches going? I have never seen the torches in any of these places unlit, even now that the monsters are long gone.  
  
"Squall. . .," I turn towards her out of habit of all those Times when I was in control, and pretending to be the brunette, "I wonder how he's doing?"  
  
"Probably already dead," Seifer turns to face me, "And we're still trying to get to your body!"  
  
"Come on!" Zell shouts enthusiastically, "He won't die that easily!"  
  
[You know,] I say, lacking any really emotion, [We're almost out. The rest of the stairs are almost right side-by-side. If we could stop arguing. . .]  
  
"He's right. Let's go," Quistis said, taking charge again. "Let's keep moving, we need to get there as quickly as possible!" Seifer grumbled something, but soon, despite his lack of motivation, we were on our way. They ran, and I well, floated. Soon we came along the next stairway after traveling down a long straight hall for what seemed like an eternity. After going up the next level of stairs, we were greeted yet another fork in the path. I chose right, and without much delay we came across what I knew was still going to be there.  
  
A mounds of bodies, long rotten and decayed, lay around. The remains of the Vile Archers and the Skeletons that Amplisa and I once fought here. The others stare at the long forgotten dead beings in shock and horror at the shear amount, while I look at these piles of bones with rememberance. I know that if I were to search in the center of that ring of bones, I would find her bones, identifiable by the necklace that would still be resting on her collar. I had tried to do something for her, but there wasn't much I could do. So, I made her the best memorial I could; she rests in the center of a circle of her fallen enemies, those that she took down. I had lain her that day in a position that was like that I had seen the dead during the funerals in the churches I had visited. Her hands crossed on her chest, her feet together. Her bow was on her right, and her quiver on her left, perfectly parallel to her body. I left her blanket there, and folded it so that it would be a pillow under her head. That's all I knew to do for someone. This place is a tomb, I had figured, and what better place to leave a dead person?   
  
Now that I look upon all this with my eyes, and suddenly I feel so tired, as if such a big weight has fallen on my shoulders. I can see that the ring of bodies, not to mention the scattered piles that dot the area, have been scavenged and picked through by animals. But, relief washes over me, as when we walk past the memorial and to the right into a corridor, that she remains untouched in the center. Perfectly fleshless now, but nevertheless, no one has disturbed her remains.   
  
And for that, I'm happy.  
  
~*~  
  
We pass hallway after hallway, each filled with the telltale signs of battle; rotting corpses, broken and forgotten weapons, blood stains. It all leaves a very distinct image in one's mind. Maybe not so much for me, as I have seen and lived such battles hundreds of Times over, but, I think the others have never really seen this kind of carnage. They seem disgusted and horrified, except for Seifer. I'm really wondering about what kind of things he thinks about if all this is nothing to him.   
  
And at last, we come upon the final stairway. I float across it, while Seifer and Zell have to kick a few lifeless skeletons down to make room. What luck, through the forgotten tower, and not one living monster. I float up and the others follow, and soon, we're in another stone room, a square one, with only one visible exit. An old ladder heads up and through a hole in the ceiling, large enough for a man to get through. I, without a thought, float up into the ceiling and to the room up there. While waiting for the others, I glance about.   
  
We're now on the ground level of the tower, which is looks like it could still have a few floors above us, but I doubt that we could reach them even if we wanted to. In the process of collapsing, those floors were probably blocked off by rubble. I hear the sound of creaking, and I look to see Quistis climb up the rickety ladder. She immediately turns around to help Zell up, followed soon by Seifer, who's looking as irritable as ever. He climbs up, and pushes away Zell when the martial artist tries to lend him a hand. Once he's up completely, he dusts off his jacket, and crosses his arms.   
  
I don't think it was until then that the others actually looked around and realized where they were. Another square room, this Time with a much higher ceiling, and in the wall directly across from us, there is a large crack. The only way in and out of the tower is that crack in the wall. Everyone stalls for a second, perhaps studying the decaying of the walls or the looseness of the stones in the ceiling.   
  
Suddenly, as if worried the place was going to collapse completely right this instant, everyone (but myself) darts out of the tower through the crack and several feet away from the base of the tower. I shrug to myself, and slowly, float out behind them. Once I catch up to them, they're all studying the bleak landscape. A place I remember well, and it hasn't changed one bit.  
  
Pale green grass, looking almost dead covers the landscape, spotted by the occasional tree, who's foliage doesn't look much healthier than the grass. Occasional small outcroppings of rocks appear, spread out in random locations.I can make out the remains of a camp long ago made by Fallens (or Carvers, they're basically the same, except in color). It's old and decriped now, but it still exists.  
  
Fallens. They always were nothing more than annoyances. Those little red imps with the black hair and their strange tattoos would surround me and try their best to ambush they're prey. This might have worked, but they had two problems: a) they were only two feet tall (except for those blasted Shamans that used their dark magic to revive their fallen brothers, they're about twice as tall), and b) they were so easily scared. Kill one, and the rest would scatter, and slowly regroup. The only challenging group I ever fought was Rakanishu and his little mob.  
  
The only other thing that decorates this landscape is the few old stone fences used by the farmers who used to live here. Now those fences are overgrown and crumbling, and the houses that used to be occupied by warm, happy families, are completely destroyed from the fires that those Fallens used to set. All that's left now is the dead remains of that Time. It appears that no one has even tried to come back, which leads me to believe that maybe a few of those monsters still exist.  
  
Inevitably, everyone's gaze is brought to the sky. Thick gray clouds cover the sky without a break in them give the land a dark, dreary look to them. It's like a wall, no end to it. There is no light on the horizon, nor in the sky directly above. The appearance of it seems unreal, unnatural. Even just looking at it now I feel the oppressive weight I felt all those years ago, walking under that same desolate sky. It felt like, no matter how far I walked, I'd never get anywhere. I had hoped that with Diablo gone, maybe the sky would clear and be bright again. But it seems I was wrong.  
  
Yep. Things haven't changed one bit.  
  
~*~ 


	8. Chapter VII Approach of the Gates

Broken Dreams   
  
Chapter VII - Approach of the Gates  
  
~*~  
  
We've been traveling for a long Time now, and have just set up camp. The others seem tired and depressed, and I'm not sure if that's because of the circumstances around Squall's injuries and the whole reason for this little adventure, or if the disheartening aura of this place is what's getting them down. As of now, Seifer and Zell are arguing on the best way to get the fire started, and Quistis is rooting through the supplies.  
  
At first, when she suggested that the supplies should be lain out so that she could prepare a dinner while they got a fire going, I thought she was crazy. No one was actually carrying anything, like a backpack or a purse, so I thought that the supplies had been left behind, of course, the thought of supplies had not really crossed my mind while we were underground. So when Seifer and Zell suddenly dug out huge handfuls of packaged food from their pockets (Seifer's being inside his jacket, Zell's on the sides of his pants), I can't help but admit I was surprised. They easily had enough for four or five meals (the excess was put back into their pockets, I was glad to notice). Still, I have to hope that they still have more. It may take a few days to get through this, especially since we'll have to go through the Catacombs, and I do not know my way through there. Though I suppose we can just follow the dead remains all the way down.  
  
So Quistis is cooking while the other two are just about having an all out insult war. It seems that instead of getting more elaborate with their slanderous words, they're just getting louder. Zell's standing with his hands on his hips and he leans forwards slightly, shouting something about how Seifer is a "stupid, stupid, idiot" (a little redundant, if you ask me), while the blonde gunblader replies that Zell's got "the intelligence of an uneducated trout". For once since I've met him, Seifer is not cussing his brains out, which I am sure would be a surprise to anyone, had they been really listening.  
  
Shaking my head, I look back towards Quistis. She seems to have everything organized, four or five small clear containers with blue tops. I watch her as she opens these little containers (each with a message in black scrawled upon the lid) and pulls out their contents. Some form of meat, vegetables, and other things, things that I have never seen before are lain out on to plates. Except the meat, which is being prepared for cooking. Soon she is finished, and the guys are no closer to starting that fire than they were five, ten minutes ago.  
  
"Zell! I'm telling you, using the flint that way isn't going to work, you have to hit it at an angle. Like this!" Seifer exclaimed, doing a brief demonstration with an imaginary pair of rocks in his hands. Zell watched, and as soon as the gunblader was done, he shook his head violently.  
  
"Nope! You do it this way!" Zell did an example with the actual rocks they had, and he managed to create one of the tiniest sparks I have ever seen. Either way, he looks proud, even as Seifer grabs the rocks and strikes them together. He gets a spark as well, but it, like Zell's, is far too small to light a fire.   
  
You'd think that they would have learned how to do this at some point during their training at the Garden.  
  
I watch as Zell roughly grabs the rocks back, and hit's them together two, three Times, without success. Seifer snickers loudly.  
  
You'd think.  
  
Suddenly, I hear a sigh from behind me, and before I have Time to react, there is a fairly loud roaring noise. Kinda like the sound a our fire would make, if they could ever get it started. Anyways, I try to turn around, as the sound is coming from the same direction as the sigh - [Quistis,] my mind states, recognizing that sigh - and I swivel just in Time to see a large flaming orb pass right through me.   
  
I must admit that I am startled, and telling by the exclamations from behind me, I think Zell and Seifer are too. However, I don't turn to face them, as I am still surprised by the image of Quistis in front of me, her hands raised and interlocking, palms facing me, her arms extended even as the faint red glow fades away. There's a look of determination and vague amusement as she stares at me, no, through me.   
  
Actually, I don't really think she's seeing anything. She looks kinda spaced out, her eyes unfocused and distant, cold.  
  
Slowly, she comes back to herself, and she glances at me and shakes her head, "I'm sorry, but when I use magic, I can get lost in my thoughts."  
  
[It's alright,] I say before I really think about what she said. Magic? Well, that would explain the fireball. Curious about what her target was, I turn to see the fire crackling hungrily, eating away at the dry wood. Seifer and Zell are still kind of hovering over the now burning sticks, looking rather stupefied and unsure of what to do next. Zell still holds the rocks, but they soon drop from his hands and land in the slowly growing ashes, causing a upshot of embers and ashes on to both him and Seifer.  
  
"God damn you Zell! Just had to do that, didn't you?" Seifer asked angrily, fiercely rubbing at his face, trying to rid himself of the burning particles. The Martial Artist was doing the same, but said nothing. I watch them for a moment, only slightly interested in their efforts to clean themselves of the embers, before my train of thought returns and I whip around to Quistis. She looks somewhat surprised, but the look in her eye suggests that she knows what I'm thinking.  
  
[Why didn't you warn me?]  
  
"Why?" she replies, "It obviously cannot harm you. And besides, if it could actually hit you, you'd be alright. Fire spells don't usually light things on fire, at least, not living things. A fire spell will catch a pile of wood on fire, but it won't light a person aflame. So, even if it did hit you, it hurt a bit, and then you would be fine."  
  
[I. . .see,] I reply, watching as she regards me solemnly, before she abruptly gets up and takes the food over to the guys, and begins cooking the meat on a splint. Seifer and Zell hungrily eat the vegetables she hands to them, and soon are finished, waiting for the meat to be ready. All three of them are sitting around the fire, while I sit back a short distance behind Zell. As she cooks the meat, Quistis occasionally takes a moment to eat a little off her own plate, before rotating the splint some more.   
  
Zell and Seifer are just talking now, enjoying the heat of the fire. I guess it would be cold, these plains used to always be that way, especially at night. Zell only proves my thoughts to me as he gives a small shiver, before moving closer to the fire.  
  
Soon, the meat is ready and served, a sizable hunk cut from the main piece and handed out, one to each person. It looks edible enough, but I've seen a lot of things that look good but will kill you if you eat it. This, however, I doubt is one of those things.  
  
Zell looks down to his meat, and then back up at the instructor, "Couldn't we have brought hotdogs? I mean," he added when he saw her look go a little sour, "it's probably very good and all, but it's like impossible to get a hotdog at Garden during lunch, but if we ordered it for the trip. . .Well, couldn't we have just brought a few?"  
  
"Zell, they were out. There were none to bring," she replies, and telling by her actions, it's like she knew this was coming and prepared for it, "And besides, this stuff is a lot better for you."  
  
"Well, isn't there any sauce, or ketchup? Or something? Anything?" Seifer questions, his spirits apparently dropping with each shake of her head, until finally, he just looks back down at his plate and shuts up. After a few moments of picking at his plate, Seifer finally ate the meat and gave his plate to Quistis.  
  
"Link, is there a river or something on the way? We are going to need more water eventually," the instructor explained as she took Seifer's plate. It looked rather dirty, and so did Zell's, as the Martial Artist handed his to her as well. Both plates were covered with grease and residue from the food, and look absolutely disgusting.  
  
[Yeah. . .there's a river along the way, we should reach it by tomorrow. Actually, by tomorrow, be should at least be able to see the Monastery gates.]  
  
"A Monastery? What's that got to do with anything?" Seifer says, turning around so that he can properly face me.   
  
I want to sigh, but I don't want to offend anybody, so I settle for discretely rolling my eyes. Did I not tell him about the Monastery already? Or am I just mistaken? Then again, Seifer does strike me as the kind of person who doesn't like to pay attention, and forgets things easily. That could be it. [That's where my body was taken. It should be relatively monster less, but, the network of passages in the lower levels were very twisted, and probably still are. Unless there was a cave in, but I doubt that. The walls down there were really solid. I don't know the exact way, but it won't be hard to find.]  
  
"Well, as long as we can get through," Quistis says, cleaning everything up and putting things away. When she's done, she moves closer to the fire and appears to truly relax for the first Time since this trip began. She undoes her hair, and her golden locks frame her face like some saintly halo. Her blue eyes shine brightly from her face, sad and lonely. No happiness dwells there, and when it visits, it's stays are brief. She looks weighed down, as if by a burden.  
  
Hmm. . . Reminds me of Zelda. Or, at least what I remember of the Princess, but I was young then, and easily impressed. I wonder what she would be like now. . .If she was still alive. What would I think of her now, after everything I've seen and done? I before thought that she was almost mystical in her behavior and appearance, but would that view of her have changed by now?  
  
Seifer and Zell visibly relax as well. There's some underlying tension beneath their calm surfaces as well, most likely to do with Squall's injuries and impending death, but they hide it well. There's a moment of silence, before Zell starts up with a joke, something to do with a drunk walking into a bar. I'm not really paying attention to what he's saying, the allure of the fire and the shadows dancing around it are distracting me, lulling me into almost a sleep like state.  
  
Coldness blankets me, and weariness swims through my mind. Everything seems to slow down and lose importance as the sweet callings of sleep beacon for me to lay back and rest. I begin to comply, as everything gains a weight to it and becomes distant and drifting ever farther away.  
  
~. . .Sleep. . .~  
  
I obey the command from within myself, and lay back. Closing my eyes, I curl up as if for sleep, when suddenly a thought that for the last few minutes has been bordering my mind comes to the forefront:  
  
What am I doing? Ghosts don't sleep!   
  
Sitting up quickly, the tempting coldness that numbed my mind only moments before flees reluctantly with my realization. I return to an upright position, and several eyes watching me. Quistis and Seifer only look at me as if asking what I was doing, while Zell has his arms crossed and one eyebrow arched. Quite comical, really.  
  
[Heheh. . .Sorry, it's a ghost thing.]  
  
Seifer doesn't look ready to believe me (what else is new?) but the conversation returns as everyone goes back to facing the fire. He adds in his own bits and pieces and seems to have forgotten about what ever accusation he had in store for me.  
  
I watch them as they converse on subjects I don't understand, on things I do, on their thoughts about this whole thing, before all three of them turn in. I had earlier told them that I could watch (and guess who was skeptical about me being on guard?), and they eventually agreed that I should do it. Quistis almost showed pity at me volunteering to watch for the whole night, which I would understand better if I was 'real' and doing this. Then I would need sleep as well, and such a set up would not be fair. However, I can't really sleep (unless you count that coldness thing, but I don't need rest, and that doesn't refresh me anyway) so what's the point of me trying to sleep?  
  
They all pull out blankets, and making sure they're a good enough distance away from the fire, curl up and fall asleep. I watch them for a good long Time (and Seifer watches me for a while through the corner of his eye, as he is the last to fall asleep) before I study our surroundings.  
  
Surprise, surprise. Flat, dead plains. Barren of anything but dying grass and rotting trees. Darkness all around, but no enemies.  
  
Maybe the Rouges got rid of them all?  
  
Even if they did take care of the plains, the Monastery will still be occupied. The Rouges will never go there again, despite their will to. Tyrael will have told them many Times never to go back, and that's also where the monsters were the strongest. How many Rouges died trying just to scout the plains? All I know is that by the Time I came across the camp, many of them were already dead. I found more of them out in the fields and caves, dead, then I ever saw in camp.  
  
Yes, monsters will still be in that hovel, and how many or how strong is anybody's guess. They could be no stronger than the last Time I was there, or maybe due to their sudden isolation, maybe they have weakened. Maybe there was a cave in, and most or all were trapped and have died now. Who can tell? I think that there will still be monsters there, but in less numbers than before, but I am no expert on monster survival. I know how to kill them, but that's it.  
  
I turn my gaze back to the fire, which to me in this stupid form is a light grey and white flickering flame. It's no where near as nice as the bright orange fire in the black of the night with the stars overhead that hovers on the edge of my memories. When was the last Time I spent a night like that?   
  
I don't even remember anymore.  
  
Zell starts snoring, destroying the atmosphere somewhat, and for that I find that if I could, I would find the rudest, cruelest way to wake him-  
  
Seifer rolls over, still half asleep, and gives Zell a sloppy punch to the shoulder. Nevertheless, it gets the job done as Zell snorts in surprise, before going back to a more peaceful sleep. More peaceful for everyone else, anyway.  
  
I watch the fire, waiting for the dawn to come, so that we can get that much closer to my body. So close now, we can't fail. I don't want it to be my fault for Squall's death, too.  
  
I've had enough of that already.  
  
~*~   
  
////  
  
". . .Hehehe, so, Faery Boy, what's your name? I mean, your real name?" the young redhead asks me, leaning forward slightly with her hands behind her back. A large smile lights up her face, a smile larger than any other I have ever seen. It only gets larger as a lock of her hair falls in front of her face. She brushes it back, and returns her attention to me. Her stance betrays her impatience, and she sways slightly from side to side in an antsy fashion.  
  
I forgot how hyper she is as a kid.  
  
". . .Uh, Link. I'm Link," I say, doing my best to at least seem like a pleasant person, despite the fact that I'm still covered in blood from the Wolfos I just killed. She doesn't really seem to have acknowledged the danger she was in, nor she doesn't seem shocked or even surprised at either the attack, or my coming to her aid. The creature's blood is still smeared on my face and coating my tunic and my left hand, but she doesn't seem disgusted. A good sign, or at least so I figure. I thrust out my clean hand and position so as to shake her hand. She looks more closely at me (still not in disgust or anger), at the blood on my clothing and face with a grim expression, before suddenly smiling again and shaking my hand.   
  
"Hi Link! Thanks a lot! My name's Malon, and I live at the Lon Lon Ranch. You should come visit sometime," she says, letting go of my hand, "I could teach you how do ride a horse!" She sees the expression on my face and her smile falters a little, "Or. . do you already know how, Faery Boy - I mean, Link?"  
  
"Nah," I reply, lightening the expression I wear. It's too dour as of late. "I'd love to learn."  
  
\\\\  
  
The memory fades and I'm left feeling far more alone and tired than I have since this whole new adventure began. I can only seem to think of all the mistakes that I made in my attempted relationship with her. Din, I don't even know if Malon ever even knew how I felt about her. Every Time, something got in the way. At first, when I awoke after seven years of sleep to a strange body with strange new thoughts, I thought that maybe those feelings I had were just strange after effects of the sleep. I knew nothing of Love, and she was the first living person I saw besides Rauru (who doesn't seem so alive to me, being trapped in the Sacred Realm and all).   
  
Well, at least she didn't remember those seven years. She could grow up happy and carefree. Even if she didn't remember me. She'd have a chance at untouched innocence, unsoiled perfection, something she could have had before. If it was not for Ingo. That bastard, he beat her and threatened her and probably did other things, things so bad that I don't want to fathom.  
  
When I saw her that day, the first day that I had awakened from my really long sleep, I travelled to the Ranch and sought her. I was hoping that she was still alive and okay, or that she had fled and survived. She was one of the few friends I had, and after seeing what happened to Castletown, I was very afraid for her.  
  
She had survived, but it was not longer Malon the Farm Girl I saw that night, singing in the fields.  
  
No, it was Malon the Realist. Malon the Forsaken, the Fallen, the Wounded. She had seen things that I wish now just as much as I did then that she should never have seen. She witnessed her father being beaten and evicted by Gannondorf's forces (at Ingo's insistence that he was a threat). She saw Ingo beat her horses, break them in instead of training them. She always was so gentle to the horses, but Ingo was the exact opposite. She told me how when he trained them, he'd beat them bloody if they didn't catch on immediately, or if they were hesitant. The result was horses of a lesser grade then the one's she had raised. Horses that were short tempered and violent if they had a fiery spirit, broken and despondent if they were truly defeated in soul. Truly miserable creatures, I'm sure.  
  
And then, when Zelda offered me that chance to go back, I took it readily. Without a second thought. I did it not for myself, but for the people. I cared not for what I had seen and done, for though those things bordered my mind like some deadly plague, I did not want those people to live and remember what they had seen for those seven years. No, I did it for them. I may have driven myself half crazy, but it was for them.   
  
Especially Malon. I'd do anything to remove that pained expression from her face, that eternal sadness that seemed to surround her, despite her weak smiles that she forced. She tried to brighten up those around her, but to do so had to place a mask on her face, and push back her thoughts and feelings. She played the part of the happy go lucky girl, while her eyes portrayed the sorrow that never left. That was blocked in, due to her own selflessness.  
  
She sacrificed a part of herself for others. She lived through those seven years I slept.  
  
I would willing have gone through Hell and back seven Times over if that's what it took to reverse Gannon's reign and what it did to her. However, the answer was instead offered to me in the form of a small blue ocarina in the hands of the Seventh Sage. The song was played, and Time reset.  
  
Much like how I used that same ocarina and song in Termina. . .  
  
. . .But, wait a minute, didn't Zelda say that only a Sage could set back Time?  
  
I shake my head. It's not like I can remember every word of those years. I could just be mistaken. That was so long ago, long before I was (and I still am) sealed for Goddess's know how long.  
  
Speaking (well, not really speaking) of which, once I'm back to normal (or would this be normal now? I mean, since I've been in this form much longer than I've ever spent in my own body) I'll have to find somebody and ask how long it's been since Diablo was defeated. I know it's been a long, long Time. But, how long?  
  
I watch the fading embers of the campfire (and I can't restock it, I don't have the solidity to hold the wood) as I think solemnly about all the things that have happened before. Everything that I can remember; my first real fight against Gohma (and the first Time that I ever realized how much I loved battle), the very first Time I met Malon, even things like how once someone (a guy in blue I remember) saw me returning from a temple in that strange blue light. His friend, a man in red clothing, only laughed at his story. I remember that, though I'm not even sure anymore whether I knew any of their names. There's a lot of things I'm not sure about anymore.   
  
I do my best to never think about those Times in the land of Sanctuary, my quest against Diablo and Mephisto. There were no good things about that journey, and still the consequences haunt me. I'm not sure I'll ever escape what happened then.  
  
The sound of something stirring pierced my reverie, and I look over in Time to see Quistis sitting up slowly. She sits up in a lazy fashion, stretching leisurely. I think it takes her a moment to realize that I'm there, and what she's doing out in the middle of no where. Her vacant, disoriented look soon leaves her, and she gets up, lacking her usual grace. She stumbles towards the fire and does what I could not do, she picks up a log of wood and throws it in. It lands and causes a pile of embers to take flight, though none go far.  
  
"So, anything last night?" she asks me, looking up slowly at me, as if I am something to be wary of.   
  
Or maybe I'm just being paranoid. I hope it's the latter.  
  
[No, not a thing. I guess the people who live in that town I told you about, I guess they must have cleaned out this area, because the last Time I was here these plains were crawling with monsters.]  
  
"I see, I guess it's a lot different now," she replies, looking thoughtful, "Must have been boring, being awake all night all alone. Do you ever need to sleep. . .like that? Well, I-"  
  
[I know what you mean, and no,] I answer, interrupting her nervous question. I suppose it must seem like a bit of a risky topic, I really don't mind talking about it. But she wouldn't know that, so of course she would assume that I would be reluctant, speaking about my condition now that I'm sealed, [. . .There was nothing. Not even a bird or a natural wild animal.]  
  
"Really?" she asks, yawning. I'm thinking that this conversation is more to pass the Time rather than for information. At the thought of Time, I wonder how long until we (more so Quistis, I'm thinking) should wake the others. My attention's brought back to the matter at hand when Quistis regains her composure (she's still got that lack of grace that comes with waking up from a good sleep), and she looks at me for an answer.  
  
Nodding my head, I turn towards the other half of the group (if you include me). I look back towards Quistis and put on my best what-should-we-do face, but I'm not sure that she can see it through my aura, never mind understand it.  
  
Malon always said I seemed to have a hard Time getting my emotions across.  
  
[How are we supposed to wake them up? As much as I want them to be rested for whatever we may meet, I don't want it to take us forever to get there. The sooner we get going, the sooner we'll get there.]  
  
She nods her head in agreement, and then looks at the two sleepers. I follow her gaze to see Zell sleeping all sprawled out, while Seifer sleeps with his arms behind his head, forming a pillow for him. Zell is snoring again, but much more softly than before, and I don't think Seifer can even hear it in his deep sleep.  
  
Quistis walks over first to Zell, and gives him a light kick to the ribs. He jerks wildly, groaning as he opens his eyes and squints up at the instructor. One hand grips his side and he winces as if in pain.  
  
"Ow, whatcha do that for?" he mumbles at her, but Quistis has already moved on to victim number two. She reaches him, looking confident, but that ends quickly and she hesitates on following through. Zell gets up and stumbles, yawning as he stretches. He almost trips over Seifer and nearly crashes into Quistis, but he manages to stagger around them and plops down next to the fire.  
  
Quistis regains her courage and raises her foot, but Seifer lifts a hand and pushes it aside. He opens his eyes wearily and gets up, ignoring the instructor's surprised look. He sits down across from Zell and sighs, cracking his knuckles. I guess all the noise Zell made woke him up. Quistis eventually walks over and sits down next to him and reaches back for that little pack she was carrying earlier.  
  
Again they start the whole process of preparing food, the only difference this Time is that the fire is already going, though it's small, despite Zell's current attempts to revive it with some fresh wood.  
  
I watch from the side, and I wonder what it's like for them. What it's going to be like for me, when I get my body back. I guess I'll go back with them so I can help Squall, but after that, what? What will I do? I might stay with them and live in their world, or maybe I could come back here. . .  
  
No, I'm not coming to live in this world. Tyrael would probably hunt me down and seal me again, or try to kill me. Also all these places here hold bad memories for me, and I don't like the looks of the land. It's still tainted by the evils that roamed across it however long ago. I'm not sure if the skies will ever clear up from this dismal grey that they are now.   
  
No, this would not be the place for me. And I don't know my way back home. . .  
  
Heh, what home? I have no home.  
  
"So, what are we doing today?" Zell asks me, through a mouthful of food. Bread, by the looks of it.  
  
[We should reach the Monastery by this evening, but I don't think it'll be a good idea to enter at night, so by tomorrow, we should be inside it and from there, maybe another day to find my body and work our way out. Then I go back and stop Squall from getting himself killed.]  
  
"You know," Seifer says, "I never I thought that there would be a day where Squall was reckless. That boy was so orthodox you'd swear he had his shorts in a knot or something. And fucking patient too. You'd think he would have known better than to attack that thing."  
  
"Yea! Normally, he's all like, strategic and all. It was totally unlike him to charge that thing!" an enthusiastic Zell (but when is he not?) adds, stuffing the rest of his breakfast down his throat. It's a rather. . .disgusting view, but with a shake of my head, I dismiss the sight and concentrate on the conversation.  
  
[I'm afraid part of that may have been my fault. He didn't particularly like to. . .listen to me. I don't blame him of course, he must've thought he was going crazy.]  
  
"True enough," Quistis agrees, finishing her own breakfast in a far more polite fashion than the other two. Slowly, the three of them begin conversing with themselves about things I have no knowledge of. I don't bother to listen, it's obvious they are done talking to me for now. It doesn't really matter to me, it's a little difficult for me to tell them things, as I'm always unsure if what I am saying is understood by them. By that, I don't mean that I think that they are stupid or anything, but I'm speaking to people who have almost no idea of anything I'm talking about. Not only did I have to learn their language (and I still don't know most of it), but it also seems that many words have changed their meaning over Time. For instance, to 'rustle' up something, in my day, meant that you were planning on taking a girl, and more often than not it meant you were also going to do it without her consent. Now, it apparently it means to gather something, like food or information. At least I think that's what it means now.  
  
Soon, the others are ready to move again, and I lead the way. The air is filled with an uncomfortable silence (at least for me). The others don't talk amongst themselves or to me, and this place has that silence still from when these lands were controlled by Diablo's minions. The only sounds I have ever heard here was the clash of metal, and Amplisa's laughter. Now both are absent. There is no sound of birds, or the buzzing of insects. All is absent, leaving the land dark and empty, void of anything but the four of us.  
  
Suddenly, a nervous chuckle comes from Zell, and he starts with a whole new string of bar jokes. He sounds as if he is merely trying to break the silence, and Quistis and Seifer seem willing to humor him, but the atmosphere is damping everyone's spirits. Their meager chuckles at Zell's comedic act is proof of their uneasiness. No one is in the mood for humor right now, but at least Zell is trying.  
  
We head further to the north, me still in the lead, and I stare at the ground and find the path I used once before. It is old and hasn't been used for some Time, but it can still serve it's purpose. it only serves to remind me, that I however, seem to have outlived my purpose long ago.   
  
~*~  
  
The gates loom before us, only a hundred yards or so away. The towering structure is composed of a dark grey stone, etched with decorative carvings, beautifying the structure, though now that beauty has faded into a strange image of dark uneasiness. The large wooden doors that will lead us down to my body stand tall and proud, looking old and yet still sturdy. There is no sign of moss or mold on the gates, and I begin to wonder exactly how long I have been gone. If these gates are anything to go by, then I should say not long.   
  
But I know that's not true.  
  
Behind me, the others are cleaning up in the river. This includes everything from washing the plates to bathing, so I make sure not to turn around. There's some slight conversation between them, but they still can seem to overcome that barrier from before. Which is fine by me, I'm finding that silence is somewhat preferable to Zell's babbling.  
  
We'll be setting up camp soon, and then heading at last into the Monastery in the morning. The memories of that place sends chills down my spine (well, it would, if I did have a spine) and I find myself both wanting and reluctant to travel into that monster's den. We're so close now, I swear I can sense my body down there.  
  
We're so close. . .  
  
In the morning, I shall pass those gates once more, and reclaim my body.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: I think the world of D2 is called Sanctuary, but I'm not sure. Obviously, I don't own Sanctuary (if that is it's proper name). Sorry about the delay! 


	9. Chapter VIII Journey into the Depths

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter VIII - Journey into the Depths  
  
~*~  
  
Dawn came, and we thrust open the large door that lead into the Monastery. I had to contain my urge to race down the hallways, not an easy task, I assure you. I wanted nothing more than to just ghost through all the walls and floors straight down into the catacombs and be there by now. Of course, that would be pointless. I'd be so far ahead of them, and then they would have to try and find me again, and go through any of the monsters that still live here. Get lost, and possibly die.  
  
All in all, it would just waste Time. And maybe even be the waste of their lives.  
  
The darkness may hold this place tightly within it's grasp, but I can see through the black, hard as it may be. I'm not sure about the others, maybe I can only see because I am dead, and all I can ever see is shadows. As for the others, I have no clue as to how they are faring. Sight wise that is. All I know is that they are following my lead, but they seem somewhat reluctant. I don't blame them. There is no light, and they must feel as if walking blindly into a trap. Seifer must really be doubting my loyalties right about now.  
  
We head through the small hall, Quistis' boots clicking against the stone, Zell's shoes thudding, and Seifer's silent. Or maybe Seifer's boots are thudding and it's Zell's who are silent. Whatever. Either way, I know at least that they're still behind me. That's really going to help when we get deeper down into the basements of this building. I'll know if I'm missing someone.  
  
The floor is coated with dust and cobwebs cling to the corners of the room. There is a partial wall here, as if to make the room into a smaller one. It's like a wall, but with many windows and openings. I remember those coming in handy here, as often sniping enemies with my bow saved my life. Amplisa told me many things about the Monastery, before she died. She said that these walls were erected for two reasons: one, as decoration. They were heavily carved with pictures of archers and swordswomen fighting strange and vague beasts. Probably connected to some old legend, or so I figure. Two, it was an excellent place for archers to hide if invasion came to the Monastery. Just as I had discovered later on, the little windows and doorways were in excellent locations to shoot from, and then hide again as return fire struck.  
  
But even with that advantage, Diablo's forces were too strong for the Rogues. When I got here, all that remained were the signs of a violent massacre.  
  
~Always too late,~ a part of myself whispered, ~Always too goddess damned late.~  
  
I guide the others in silence to the other side of the room, and we reach another large wooden door. I can't open it, but luckily Zell seems to get the idea of why we stopped without me even having to say so. He moves in front of me and searches for the handle. I'd help him, but what's the use? He'll find it well enough on his own.  
  
If I remember correctly, this should lead to a little courtyard, the first of two.   
  
Zell opens the wooden door with a loud creak (which in the sudden burst of light I can see that it is in far worse shape than the last one, as there is mold and the hinges are heavily rusted), I hear a collective groan from all behind me. Zell quickly jerks his hands up in front of his eyes and mumbles something inaudible. The light doesn't blind me of course, because my eyes are not real. I see things, but the light really has no effect on how I see things.  
  
~. . .Shadows. Only shadows.~  
  
Through the door I can see another one of those archer walls, complete with the complicated carvings and many openings. Within that, the stone walkway suddenly turns to grass, now overgrown and with a slight yellow tint to it. It's much tougher looking than the last Time I was here, probably since it hasn't been watered except when there is natural rain. Last Time I was here, it was still a bright green and only beginning to grow long. The little bushes that once grew here are either not visible, or dead. In the middle of the field is a statue of three Rogues, two wielding bows while the third is missing most of her upper body. Despite it's horrendous condition, I think that I can make it out that it was once made from marble. Or some similar rock. The statue is surrounded by a few small piles of rubble (probably the remains of that third Rogue) that are barely noticeable through the thick grass. There is no ceiling to this hall, and though the sky is still (and maybe always will be) overcast, the sudden change from the oppressive blackness that was in the other hall is obviously blinding.  
  
After some grumbling and cussing (most of it from Seifer), their eyes clear up enough and we continue forward. I move to cut across to the other side of the room, but the others seem reluctant to go through the tall grass. Finally, after the meaningless hesitation, Zell cuts across, followed shortly by Seifer then Quistis.   
  
I wonder why they were so reluctant?  
  
They come towards me, and we go across, past the statue (lovely structure, but too bad it's broken like that. It still works however, as water still rises in many glorious arcs from the basin), and to the other side. The stone walkway frames the courtyard, and past the archer's wall (the best way for me to describe it) we step back on to the walkway. Before us is another wooden door. Actually, there is one on each wall in this room, but the other two lead to more courtyards, and those are all in all dead ends.   
  
This door is much like the last, green and yellow with mold, and rusting. Some areas of the wood are also black from rot, and I'm sure the smell must be awful.  
  
Zell (with the collar of his shirt covering his noise) moves in front of me, and again opens the door. After touching the handle, he quickly wipes his hand off on his shirt, as if to rid himself of any. . .well, whatever he's expecting to have 'infected' his hand.  
  
Back into the endless darkness that this time is the Barracks. Same darkness, just a different name, different place.   
  
The Darkness is always the same. Why do people with malicious designs choose Darkness as their tool? Because it is a minion for them, a minion that requires no food, no water, no attention, nothing. It requires nothing, and yet it's strength is the greatest of them all, it rots the mind. Twists it and tortures it, picks at it and points out the flaws, separates and devours.   
  
Though, I have heard similar comments on the Light. I guess it's all about opinion. And perspective.  
  
The others look hesitant to follow, but I go in, and they file in behind me. The darkness is thick, but apparently empty. I see no enemies (Fallens usually betrayed themselves because of the torches they carried) but I neither hear nor see anything else. Just high piled crates and long lines of barrels. We pass on towards the next door.  
  
And the next.  
  
And the next.  
  
It never before occurred to me how repetitive this part of the Monastery is. Sure, the halls vary in size, and there are many twists and turns (and we explore most of them, because I never really memorized my way through here), but other than that, all this is, is one long passage of dark, gloomy, stone walls and floors. There are no lights to go by, or any real form of landmark.  
  
I'm starting to think that maybe this place was designed to confuse.   
  
More doors, and more hallways. I am sure that the others are just about going out of their minds in this place (I know that I am getting supremely frustrated) when finally, I see the object of this part of the search.  
  
A stone staircase that leads down into the depths of the Monastery, once blocked by large iron bars that are now completely ripped apart in the middle (I would hate to come across whatever did that, I'm quite sure that even Andariel would have had a hard time doing it). The others follow me (I actually have no clue how they can see me, maybe I glow through the dark?) down the steps and into the next phase of our little journey to find my body.  
  
The Jail. I assume by the the name that this is where the Rogues held their prisoners. It is basically one large chamber with jail cells in seemingly random locations throughout. When I last came through here, none of the cells seemed locked, and I noticed that many of the cells had more than one door.  
  
I remember, that while going through here, I would often throw myself into a cell and wedge the door shut (tightly, very very tightly) behind me. That is how I got my rest in this portion of the Monastery, and did it save my butt. Better sleeping mere meters away from harm, then collapsing in the middle of a battle from exhaustion.  
  
You know, I think that if I were to look around, I could probably find the cells I slept in. . .  
  
"So, um, what are we looking for?" Zell's voice comes from behind me, surprising me out of my thoughts. He's the first one to talk since we entered, and he sounds rather nervous. I don't blame him. He's in a place neither he nor the others have been before, they are trusting a spirit in getting them through a system of jail cells in pitch black all to find the body of the spirit so that they can save their friend by changing the past.  
  
Sounds more than a little silly to me, and I'm the one who came up with the plan.  
  
[There is three floors to this section of the Monastery. We're on the first one, and we need to get to the third. From there, we'll come across another court yard. Then we have a choice; we can stop so you can rest, and continue afterwards, or we can just keep going. If you stop to rest, then it will probably mean that we'll have to camp once more before we can find my body. If you keep going, we should reach it before the end of the night.]  
  
"How long have we been in this place? I mean, like approximately-"   
  
[About five hours,] I reply, interrupting Seifer, [If all goes well, we should be out of this section in about two hours.]  
  
"Then I vote we keep going, the sooner we get out of this place, the better."   
  
"I completely agree with Zell," Quistis states, "I think we should continue without stopping. Seifer? Your thoughts?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's just get going."  
  
So, after that brief respite we continue forward again in silence. We walk (with the exception of your's truly, who floats) in complete silence, seemingly amplified by the breathing of the others. We only stop when I need to try and remember which is the right path (ah, decisions, how I hate them sometimes. Actually most Times, cause I always seem to make the wrong choice) and of course, around midday we stop so the still living can have some lunch. It doesn't last long, as they seem less inclined to take their Time in the pitch black, (although it's funny watching them stumble and struggle to get the food ready) and soon we're moving again.  
  
I wonder what it will be like, being able to taste something again. Or being able to touch something.  
  
We head through the levels of the jail agonizingly slowly, the fear of their friend's safety driving them, my own selfishness driving me. As much as I want to say that I am doing this solely for Squall, I realize now that it is my own greed that drives me.  
  
My greed for a normal life.  
  
~*~  
  
It's kinda creepy, ya know? I can't see a damned thing, except Link, or whatever his name is. He glows like a freaken light bulb, but he doesn't actually give off light. He's just really bright. I can't even see Quistis or Seifer in this gloom.   
  
Anyways, so Link's aura looks like it's just about ready to go fricken nuts. Normally, it's all close and tight against his body, although occasionally some of it's tendrils go a bit farther, but mostly it's very close to him. But now, it's huge! I think it's been steadily getting larger and brighter as we go along, but if it has, then it's been pretty subtle.  
  
I do wish I could see what we're doing though, I mean, it's nice that ole Ghosty (I ain't calling him 'Ethereal', no matter what) is guiding us through this black hell hole, but I'd really like to see. When we were in that courtyard place again, whoo boy, was I impressed. I'm quite curious about this section, but it's blacker than night in here. Wish I brought a flashlight or something. Stupid stupid.  
  
And another thing I've just noticed, Link's arm, well not just his arm, has a light grayish color to it, unlike the rest of him which is unbearably white. It's a light grey, but it gets slowly darker as it nears his neck, where it goes steel grey for one small spot. and then, immediately back to bright white. It's just kinda odd. It's sumpthin' you wouldn't notice regularly, but I have nothing else to look at, so I've had plenty of time to see it.  
  
We've been walking through this place for what seems like a bloody eternity, and still no sign of the last staircase. How does that guy see anyway? I can only see him, not any of the others. It's too dark for that. So how the hell does he know where he's going?  
  
I guess it's not my place to question that, though. He's been here before, so maybe he like memorized the way or sumpthin'. None of my business, as long as we find his body. Which is sounding like it's gonna be at the very end of this giant maze thing.   
  
Finally, I see Link move upwards, and feel myself trip on a goddamn stair and bashing my knee on the steps. Holding back my nagging need to cuss like a pirate, I follow him up (crawling until I can get the feeling back in my joints). We come out of a stone stairway, which was once covered by large metal bars that are stretched and broken. It had to be sumpthin' mighty strong to do that.   
  
Again we're greeted by bright light, but it's not as sudden as it was last time. This time, we are again in another courtyard thing, and for one second I thought we went the wrong way, that is until I noticed that there's no giant statue of three (well, two and a half) hot chicks with bows looking more than half ready to shoot us. Since it's not here, I think we're at a different courtyard thing.  
  
Link suddenly turns towards us (his aura thingy still flailing about like crazy), and despite his sudden movement, it still seems like he's going so slow.  
  
[Welcome to the Inner Cloister. . .]  
  
~*~  
  
[Welcome to the Inner Cloister. This is the last courtyard in the Monastery. After this, it's back underground. It's going a be a little while until we come back up, so maybe you guys should take a minute or two.]  
  
Everyone nods at my suggestion, and they go relax; Seifer leans against the archer's wall, Quistis sits in one of the bell shaped windows, and Zell is sitting cross legged on the ground. They talk in low tones, but I really don't care about listening in to their conversations.  
  
I just can't stop thinking about how it won't be much longer until I can feel things again. I can almost imagine feeling my sword in my hands again, the feeling of worn leather in calloused hands, being swung violently in the heat of the battle. Or even as I just spar against someone. Seifer would be a good opponent from what I have seen. Squall maybe, when he's feeling better.  
  
Ah, Squall. Chalk up another one on the "People I've Failed" list. How many is that now? Too many to count. I've messed up again. I couldn't gain his trust, and thus I basically got him killed. If only. . .If only I could be a better person. If I could actually do things right, unlike every other Time.  
  
~Always too late. . .I never could make it. Failure. Loser. Miserable brat. . .Selfish child. . .~  
  
A loud beeping sound disturbs my thoughts, and I look over to see Quistis with a small rectangular thing in her hands. She's pressing it, and every time she touches it, it makes that sound. High pitched and annoying. She looks up at me and sees my curious look and sighs lightly.  
  
"Irvine told me to phone him when we got here, and I forgot earlier, so I might as well do it now."  
  
"The great Quisty forgot something?" Seifer feigned surprise and horror, as the instructor continued to press the 'phone', a cross look forming on her face, "Oh, no! Whatever will we do?"  
  
"Shut up, Seifer," Zell replied in Quistis' defense, but the cross look did not leave her face.  
  
"Well?" Seifer asked, more than a bit annoyed.  
  
She took the 'phone' away from her ear and looked at it, unimpressed, "Nothing. I could have told him as much, but whatever. It doesn't even ring or anything. Probably don't have phones here."   
  
"Here, let me try," Zell took it from her, and after a fair deal of beeping, "It's ringing now."  
  
After a few moments, in a voice loud enough for all of us to hear, an unfamiliar female voice came from the small machine, speaking in a rather monotone voice, "Your call can not be completed. Please try again in the next century or so, when telephones do exist." Then the device shut itself off.  
  
"What the hell? Let me try," Seifer grabbed the phone from Zell and made the thing beep again (I wished that they would just stop, it's terribly annoying). The same girl talked again, but this time she sounded in near hysterics.  
  
"STOP PHONING ME! PHONES DON'T EXIST YET, SO STOP FUCKING TRYING ALREADY! LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE!"  
  
"Well," Seifer states, taking the phone away from his ear, "That was - is - rather unusual."   
  
"Well thank you, Captain Obvious," the martial artist of the group retorts, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
[Maybe we should get moving again. I don't have an explanation for that, and I don't think I want to find out. . .]  
  
The follow me again, and this Time, instead of going straight across the way, we turn left and go through a door down by that end. North, if I am correct in my sense of directions. Of course, after traveling underground in the dark for a few hours, one can lose their sense of direction quite quickly.  
  
I find out that I was right in my guess as when the door opens (another rotting wooden door) and we enter a large cathedral. The Cathedral section of the Monastery. And that makes us more than half way through. Almost done. We're almost out.  
  
The others are in awe of the high ceilings and the wooden benches, the alter and the podium at the far end. The red carpet that leads to the front, and the tall stone pillars. That, and maybe the blood that's smeared all across the steps that lead to the podium. Quistis looks like she's about to talk to me but I shake my head.  
  
[Just a battle, that's all. Come on, this way.] I lead them to the front, and then we turn east and down another short hall. There, we find what I have been waiting to see, the stairs that lead down, towards the chamber that was once Andariel's, and now it also leads to my own chamber.  
  
We go down the stairs (the others are hesitant, as it leads into complete blackness) and I move maybe a little too quickly, because Zell comes down after me, rolling down the entire way. Of course, he probably couldn't see and slipped and fell. But on his way down, he passed right through me and for one second, I could almost feel. It was like he actually touched me, but instead of stopping as when one does when hitting something solid, just kept going through.  
  
I almost felt something. . .  
  
"Hyne your cold, Link," Zell murmurs as he lands flat on his ass at the bottom of the staircase. It's hard to be exactly sure, but I think he's rubbing his butt, as if it's sore. I guess it would be, he fell down an entire flight of stairs.  
  
[Hyne? What's that mean?]  
  
"It's uh, I'll explain it later," Zell answers, standing up slowly. It's just as dark as it was in the Barracks, and judging by the look I can just make out on his face, he looks a little lost. Confused, possibly.  
  
[This way, and watch your step,] I say, leading them over west. I can always ask Zell about this "Hyne" thing another Time, and I'm becoming so anxious that I can hardly wait another second. I can't even seem to hold a proper conversation. Normally, I would have pressed Zell until he told me. Now, I just let it drop in hopes we can get moving again.  
  
Whoever built the Catacombs had some really twisted design planned, I'm sure of it. This place is more confusing than the Shadow Temple, and I was lost in that place for days. . .maybe even weeks. Not as depressing as the Shadow Temple, but almost.  
  
I quickly lose myself (and the others) in the many twists and turns of the halls. It won't be to hard to find the way out, there is only one entrance, and one exit to this floor, and it's obvious which is which. It just might take us a while to find the next floor.  
  
I just wonder how long it's going to take us. I don't know how much longer I can wait.  
  
~*~   
  
What seems to take centuries finally comes to pass. We stand only feet away from the stairs that will take us down to the last floor. The others don't know it yet, and I can't seem to tell them. It's almost like I can't move. . .   
  
Like I am too afraid to move. Everything will change again once I get my body back, but what if it all gets worse? What will I do then? I've been living with the excuse that once I am free it will all be better, but. . .Now, I am not so sure. There are so many possibilities, chances, choices, hardships, failures, pain, and always so much hate. What if, what if I can't handle it? What if I mess up again? I could fail. I have before. I could easily fail again.  
  
What if another person dies from my mistakes?   
  
"What the hell is taking so long? Why are we stopped?" Seifer's voice rings out from behind me, and I am startled into jumping in surprise.  
  
I really wish he would stop doing that kinda stuff.  
  
[We're here. . .]  
  
"Then let's get moving, shall we?" he retorts, moving in front of me, and then stumbling his way to the staircase. He manages somehow not to fall, and slowly I follow him.   
  
Not only was this place the locations of many bad memories and nightmares, but. . .I am afraid.  
  
We have not come across one trap that Tyrael has left behind. And I know he has left behind traps.  
  
We come out on the last floor, to a small hall with a closed door on the far right hand side. It's still pitch black, and I move back in front of Seifer.   
  
I don't like this.  
  
I guide them to the door, and Zell opens it as usual. We come into a much larger room, rectangular in shape, with a large pit of some red substance. When I came here last, this room was filled with monsters, and there were fires all around. Now it is dark and empty, just like every other room in this place.  
  
The stuff that is in the pit is unknown to me, although I fear it may be blood, but I have no wish to find out. Although, if it was blood, then it would have dried up long ago. So really, I must say that I have no clue as to what it is, but whatever it is, I am sure that the others would not appreciate falling in it. So I guide them as best as I can to the opposite door. Quistis, however, on the way past the pit trips on one of the cracks in the stone floor, and falls flat on her face with a loud thud. If I were not so antsy, I'd probably be laughing my head off.  
  
"Watch that step there, it's a doozy!" Zell giggles. He, however shuts right up as he too trips to the ground on a large crack. Landing with an 'oof', he groans when Quistis and Seifer begin laughing uproariously, "Come on guys, don't be mean." This only gets them laughing harder.  
  
Quistis wanders over in his direction and helps him up, though she doesn't stop laughing. He sighs, and heads over to where I am, helping me open the door.   
  
[Okay, this is it. Ready?]  
  
The door swings open before they would have had a chance to answer that, and it reveals nothing but blackness. Hmm. I had been hoping that this place would at least have had some light, but I guess I was wrong.   
  
Moving into the center of the hall (with the others close behind), I look around. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, at least compared to how I left it. Bones are scattered all around, and a slight crater in the floor where Andariel died and exploded. Or whatever it was that she did. The red carpet that led up to her throne (quite small for the ridiculously huge corrupted Rogue) of bone. Pillars lined the hall, which was shaped somewhat like an upside down 'T', the throne being on the far side, directly across from the entrance.  
  
"Link, what's up?" Zell asked, walking up beside me. I know that he can't see anything, but I can tell that he's trying to pierce the darkness with his eyes. He obviously doesn't succeed, and sighs in defeat, "I can't see anything. What now?"  
  
As if his words were the key, the torches that sit in the various corners of the room light up, one by one. With a sudden but brief roar of flame (that reminds me of that spell that Quistis cast, fire) they all come to life. The room fills with their hollow orange glow, and everyone (except me) shields their eyes.  
  
It isn't that bright, but it helps. Now the others can help me look. I know there is one more room beyond this, and that's where my body rests. I just don't know how to access that room. There's no door, so maybe there's a lever or something. I know there's a way, there's got to be.  
  
[Look for something that would open a door. The next room is the place, and somewhere in here is the way to open the door.] We all set off in different directions, with minimal. I check by the throne, and Zell accompanies me, saying that if I find something, I'll need a set of hands to activate it. Seifer checks near our entrance, and the middle of the hall is searched by Quistis.  
  
It's not going to be something easy, not like a loose torch, or something on the throne.  
  
~It's something else, like a floor switch, or a wall switch. Something that blends in, but is just a little different,~ I always got that kinda gut feeling about things, and this time is no different. I faced Zell, and asked him to check for anything unusual to do with the floor, and I'd check the walls. He agreed, and we both set off looking.  
  
Have you ever noticed how stone walls hold up as a great foundation and provided the perfect dungeon look? Of course, having the stones in uneven, disorderly fashions help as well. I mean, no evil overlord can go without such a decor. It just shouts 'I am evil' to the world.  
  
Or at least that's what I believe. Certainly seems like I'm not the only one who thinks that.  
  
"Hey, I think I found something!" Quistis' voice comes from the opposite side of the room. Shortly after the sound of her voice, there's an audible click, and then nothing. She sighs before replying, "Nothing. Sorry, just a loose stone. Nothing important."  
  
We all sigh before the search resumes. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That's what we find, nothing.  
  
"Damn, this is hopeless," Zell mumbles, falling into a squat and punching the floor. His sigh is cut short as a click echoes from under his fist.  
  
He found the switch! He must have stepped on that same bloody spot about a hundred Times, but I suppose the switch was jammed. Either way, it doesn't matter, he found the switch!  
  
"Oh, YES!" Zell jumps up into the air, raising his hands in a victory dance, "GO ME!"  
  
There's a loud rumble, and the floor shakes briefly, and then nothing.  
  
"Huh?" the the martial artist drops from mid jump and stares around him. He's not the only one. I have no clue what's going on. The door should have opened and let us through by now. . .  
  
~Tyrael's Trap,~ a part of me whispers, and if I could, I bet I'd be trembling with fear.  
  
A loud hiss runs through the air, and in the middle of the room, just a foot or two above the red carpet, three glowing orbs of energies gather slowly. They radiate together, in perfect synchronization, before they pull themselves into one larger orb.  
  
With a sudden explosion that has probably blown away the eardrums of the others (or so I guess from their cries, especially the one from Seifer where he shouts "Shut up!"), a bright white light fills the room, and renders everything blank. I can't even see myself in this bright light, and the others are no where insight. When fades away, slowly, I find myself still in the throne room, once again filled with that orange light.The others are still here, too. They're still covering their eyes (must have left a bad afterimage), but that'll hopefully clear up soon enough, because it looks like we have a visitor.  
  
A large half man, half horse creature stands before us. Four horse legs and two human arms form this beast's limbs, a extremely well built man (who bears the faintest resemblance to the few Barbarian's I have come across in Sanctuary). There is a strong look of determination in his face, and in one hand, he bears a huge bardiche, the shaft being at least eight feet long. The blade of the weapon is stained red with blood, and it is well worn, as if it has seen many battles.  
  
His eyes are empty black pits of nothingness. There are no pupils, only solid black. His head is completely bald of any hair, unlike his horse like body, where the swamp green fur is long and clings together, ending up looking like scales. His tail is like that of a horse, long and flowing, and the same color as the fur, but a bit lighter. From his temples, two long, curved horns protrude, kinda like those on a ram, curled up upon themselves.  
  
He stands about ten feet high, four feet above Seifer's head. He whirls the cruel weapon he carries as if it were no more than a light stick, then he plunges the blunt end down into the ground, and stands as if waiting.   
  
Seifer shrugs, his classic smirk on his face, and then charges towards the centaur creature with a battle cry. The beast rears, landing down on the stone again with a crack from it's hooves that sounds like The Thunder of the Goddesses. It regards Seifer slowly (and I am severely upset to see that it seems to have some intelligence, telling by the way it watches him), before galloping towards the SeeD, releasing a strange hissing roar that echoes in the room.  
  
Oh great.   
  
Tyrael left us a Demon, and there's nothing I can do to help.  
  
~*~ 


	10. Chapter IX The Demon of Tyrael

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter IX - The Demon of Tyrael  
  
~*~  
  
I watch helplessly as Seifer and the Centaur meet in the middle of the hall with a dramatic clash, and with a wide sweep of his bardiche, the beast simply threw Seifer aside. The gunblader lands hard down on his side, over twenty feet away from where his flight started. Groaning lightly, he gets up slowly, stumbling slightly.  
  
Zell chooses this opportunity to come out of his stupor and charges at the Centaur. I watch with a vivid sense of horror as he goes running from my side and at the beast. He comes up behind it, probably hoping to surprise it, but his tactic fails and the creature turns to face him. The Centaur rears up high, and comes crashing down, causing Zell to jump out of the way lest he be crushed.  
  
"Zell!" Quistis shouts as she pulls out and cracks her whip. It snaps (not in the actual sense of breaking) and lies limply at her feet. She's obviously worried, but I doubt there's much she can actually do. Besides, Zell did make it out of the way (just barely, but he made it). He came out of that in just about the only way he could without dying being involved on his part, so I wouldn't worry about him just yet.  
  
I feel like such a spectator. I can only watch as Seifer runs forward again, this Time a little slower, and if I know anything about swords (and I'm quite sure I have enough experience to claim so), then he's got his gunblade in a defense position. He's holding it at a diagonal angle in front of his chest, the sharp blade facing outwards.  
  
That's not going to help, it's not going to help. . .  
  
And I am proven right as the creature brings down his bardiche upon Seifer's head, and the gunblader is just able to get his own weapon in between before his brains would be smashed asunder. Still, the large pole arm is slowly crushing Seifer, and he can't move because if he does then he'll lose any chance of holding that thing back. He wouldn't have Time to dodge it then.  
  
There's gotta be something I can do. . .  
  
"A little help here!" Seifer shouts, grunting with the effort it's taking him to hold the weapon away from his head. He can't hold it back for much longer. . .The Centaur has the advantage of gravity being on his side. . .  
  
Goddesses damnit it all!  
  
A loud whip crack echoes in the room, and the red leather like substance of Quistis' weapon coils around the shaft of the bardiche several Times, and after a moment, she pulls it back and the whip goes taught. Now, with a good grip on the weapon, she struggles to pull it to the side and free Seifer.  
  
Her plan backfired.  
  
The Centaur simply looks at her, and then he casually yanks the bardiche in the opposite direction violently. Quistis, not having the time to realize what was happening and let go, is pulled with her whip, and soon she becomes airborne. Of course, now that the danger has been removed, Seifer is free to get the hell out of there, but he only manages in the moment of surprise to fall back on his ass.  
  
With a loud thud, Quistis hits solidly in to the wall and falls to the ground in a crumbled ball. I'd fear that she is dead, but I can see her eyes. They're open and aware, although heavily fogged by the pain. She glances briefly at me, as if pleading, before looking back at Seifer.  
  
The blonde gunblader is back on his feet again, and he immediately runs over towards Quistis, his dirty white coat trailing behind him dramatically. He positions himself in front of her, protectively, his gunblade once again raised in a defensive manner.  
  
Where is Zell when they need him?  
  
I look around to spot him over by the entrance, looking rather dumbfounded as he surveys the room.  
  
What? Did he drop something. . .?  
  
No, I think he's seeing if there's anything he could use. . .  
  
Suddenly, the Centaur rears again, and his hooves shake the room with the sound of thunder. He again drives the butt of his weapon down into the stone floor, and looks first at Seifer and Quistis, and then over to Zell. He doesn't seem to notice me, as he does not look in my direction.  
  
Maybe he can't see me?  
  
{What is it you seek, Mortals?} his voice booms, though I am quick to notice that it has a underlying hiss to it, {Why are you at this forgotten Tomb of the Tainted? Surely you come for treasure?} His face frowns slightly, giving the impression that he is curious. It is impossible to read emotion from his eyes, as they are pure black, and seem to repel the light around them, {There is no gold here. So why do you come to this forsaken place?} His mouth does not move, or even open as he speaks. He seems just to use his mind, or something, kind of like how I do in my current state.  
  
"Why do you think? To free him," Seifer points at me, drawing the beast's attention to himself, "So get out of our way!"  
  
{What do you point at? There is nothing there,} the Centaur's eyes narrow as he looks at my position, obviously seeing nothing, {Do you try to mock me, Mortal?} He turns to face Seifer again, seemingly annoyed by Seifer's large smirk.  
  
"Nah, I don't mock ya. You seem to do a good job of doin' it yourself," Seifer stares at his opponent with a proud glare, "And you must be blind as a fuckin' bat not to see ole Ghosty -" (so the name has caught on to him too, huh? It's good, I like it better than Ethereal), "- over there. He's glowing like a bloody searchlight."  
  
Both the Centaur and I express some confusion on the word 'searchlight', but it isn't long before the beast looks in my direction again. It still seems as if he can't see me, and I start wondering whether that is a curse or a strange blessing.  
  
{So, you wish to pass? I am the Guardian left behind by the archangel Tyrael. None shall get by without my Master's blessings.}  
  
Tyrael's blessings? Why would he let anyone by in the first place? And why not say something like, 'my Master's permission', or something? Is there something special about his use of the word 'blessings'?  
  
"Listen, buddy," Zell says, coming closer to the beast, waving his arms as he talks, "I don't give a bloody fuck on who put ya 'ere, ya know? We're here to help a friend," he looks over in my directions, "Or two. Either way, you ain't stopping us. I don't care who left ya here, we've done greater things than beat donkeys before, ya know?"  
  
Obviously, the last comment was an insult, as the beast is clearly a half man, half horse. Wait a minute. . .  
  
{I have warned you; No Mortal is allowed beyond these halls. Now, you will die!} The Centaur reared again, and galloped towards Zell, holding it's deadly weapon horizontally by its side. At first, Zell cannot seem to do anything but stare in shock, but it doesn't take him too long to get his butt in gear as the creature nears him. He rolls to the side (kinda reminds me of when I would attempt that, but back then I had a shield and a sword strapped to my back) just as the Centaur storms by where he was only moments ago. The beast pivots and faces him again, {I, Chiron, shall destroy you!}  
  
Chiron (what a strange name, but then again, Tyrael did chose him) charges at Zell again, swinging the bardiche horizontally. Zell takes a step backwards, but again the Centaur steps forward, stabbing with the blunt end of his weapon. Even speedy Zell can't avoid that, and he gets the shaft right into his ribcage. Groaning in pain, the martial artist sinks to his knees after falling back a step, and Chiron takes this opportunity to his advantage.  
  
He shifts his grip on the bardiche, and hefts the blade above Zell's head, and swings downward, bringing the bladed edge towards the earth. Zell, in his current state (I wouldn't be surprised if a few of his ribs are broken), can only look up and stare in horror.  
  
And just before the blade can make contact, Seifer comes in and does a repeat performance of his earlier defence. Trying to hold back the bardiche with his gunblade (though he has to resort to using two hands, one on the hilt and one at the tip of the gunblade), he grunts with effort and the strain. Luckily, it isn't long before Quistis comes over and does her part by pulling (gently) Zell away from the danger, and she takes him over to the side of the room. Seifer is still holding back Chiron's blade with his own (and I fear that he's stuck again) when he suddenly pulls to the side and rolls out from the path of the weapon. The Centaur's blade crashes to the ground with a clang of metal (leaving a chink in the stone floor), and when he turns to face Seifer (who's now flanking the beast on his right side, I notice) I can clearly see the anger imprinted on his face.  
  
There's gotta be something I can do. . .Something more than just be a spectator to this whole battle. . .  
  
Seifer's gunblade is swung, and slices through the scales of the beast, drawing blood. Chiron rears from the pain and back steps, thus avoiding Seifer's next attack. The Centaur lands down heavily, fretting as he tries to keep his unprotected sides away from Seifer's vicious blade. It isn't long before the beast regains his composure and again attacks Seifer, who dodges (rather deftly, I do notice and applaud) and slashes again, this Time against the front legs. Chiron screams in a high pitched hissing wail at the pain and takes several steps back, trying to keep his knees from receiving further damage. As it is now, they are just a bloody mess.  
  
I look over at Quistis to see that she is checking Zell's wounds (he doesn't look so good) before clasping both hands together, palms facing outward. A white light erupts from her, traveling upwards in three small tendrils, before flowing down and into Zell. He jerks a little at the intrusion of the strange magic, and then I truly witness a miracle.  
  
His wounds, all of the minor ones heal completely. The larger and more serious only heal up partially. Either way, he is able to stand up now, though his breath is still quite shaky (he probably does have a broken rib). He takes a moment to look around and thank Quistis, before noticing Seifer's battle. Giving Quistis a quick nod, he runs towards the bruised gunblader and bleeding creature. the instructor faces the battle, and pulls out her whip again, giving it a good crack.  
  
Seifer attacks the Centaur again, and the creature blocks quickly, seemingly amused. Chiron's smile, however, fades quickly and he pushes Seifer back with his weapon, restoring a bit of space between them again. The gunblader looks slightly annoyed, and he quickly covers that distance, attempting yet another slash. Chiron grins and whirls his weapon like how I've seen people with bowstaffs do (kinda in a circle, and fast enough that it looks like it is completely full) and then, he abruptly brings it (the sharp end) down.  
  
I begin worrying again (I've been doing that a lot of Times this battle so far) when Seifer manages to roll away.  
  
And right under the monster.  
  
My relief is short lived, knowing that he is now in - or under - the belly of the beast, but soon he surprises me yet again. I can clearly see the smirk on his face as he looks up at the stomach above him, mere seconds before stabbing his gunblade upwards. It easily imbeds itself into the hide of Chiron, and still upwards, until I can see the tip come through his back. Now the beast is impaled (as best as he can be on a four foot gunblade) when Seifer pulls the trigger.  
  
There's a loud explosion of flame from under Chiron, and then silence.  
  
Once the flash fades, I can see Seifer looking rather annoyed at the blood that has poured down on him like syrup onto his coat and pants (and even some on his face), and Chiron looking rather like he is in shock. The gunblader jerks his blade back out of the Centaur, and walks out from under the beast, looking rather proud.  
  
He couldn't have defeated the Guardian already. . .Has he (not that it would be a bad thing)?  
  
Suddenly, on Chiron's death-like face, emotion suddenly returns. He's not in pain, he's not angry, he's not dying.  
  
He's smiling. And then laughing.  
  
{Do you really think that you could defeat me so easily?} he asks, facing Seifer, who's now looking at him in shock (or at least the closest Seifer will ever come to being in shock), {I am a Daemon, fool. Mortals such as you will need to be much stronger and far more clever than that to defeat me.} He laughs again, and I am reminded of the hissing of the Demon Majora during our battle in the moon.  
  
Still gives me the creeps.  
  
"Um, Link, how the hell do I beat this guy?" Seifer yells at me, just as Zell runs up to his side.  
  
Yep, there's a definite problem with Zell's chest, and there's no doubt that it's his ribs. That spell might have helped, but the boy ain't completely healed yet.  
  
"Link! A little help here?" Seifer shouts again, and now Zell's attempting to draw attention away from Seifer by running around to Chiron's side's. It isn't working though, because both I and Chiron know that Zell is injured and won't be able to keep this up for to long, that and he can't do as much damage as Seifer can with his gunblade.  
  
~Hyperion,~ a whisper tells me from within. Hyperion? Is that what he calls his gunblade? I shake my head, there's more than just that to worry about here.  
  
[Um, I don't know!] I shout out, loud enough to overcome the sound of the clashing metal, [I've never fought an enemy like this before!] I hear a groan come from Seifer as he moves quickly out of the way of the incoming bardiche, his coat flying behind him, [But I'll try to think of something! Just give me a little Time!]  
  
Time, that all accused word. Just as the sentence was out of my mouth, the creature suddenly changed his method of attack and swung, his weapon nicking Seifer's shoulder. The gunblader gasps in pain and grabs the wound, and Zell suddenly has to change course to push Seifer out of the way as an uncharacteristically fast attack follows. They both make it out of the way, but Seifer's shoulder is bleeding rather bad. Since he is wearing a coat, it covers the wound rather well, preventing me from seeing the extent of the damage.  
  
Quistis' whip comes from nowhere, and wraps around one of the horns on the creature's head. It latches on tightly, and she does her best to try to send him off course. Chiron just smirks, reaches up, and with one hand grabs the whip, and attempts to snap it, but Quistis sees and quickly snakes the weapon away. A broken whip would still work for her, but its range wouldn't be as long. Again she lashes out the whip, this Time the leather like substance hitting the creature against the side of the horse like portion of its body. The scales there quiver ever so slightly, but that's it. No permanent harm or anything.  
  
Okay, Link, you got to think. What could be this thing's weakness?  
  
Well, Tyrael was always had some kind of fetish with his designs. He always made some kind of strange poetic connections. So. . .what could it be this Time?  
  
Oh come on Link, think!  
  
~Tyrael's Blessings . . .,~ my helpful inner voice helps again. And as usual, it makes next to no sense. . .Wait a minute.  
  
Tyrael did give me his blessings once. . .Just before I undertook the final challenge to find and destroy Diablo in Hell. And, his choice of a Guardian, what about that? A horseman. Centaurs were, in most regions, normal men on horseback, and primeval peoples thought them to be Demons, and thus the Lords of Hell made that design into a Demon of their own, as an eternal reminder of the massacres back then. . .A man on horse back. . .  
  
I'm the only one in this group who's ever ridden a horse, probably the only one to even have seen one before (from all my travels with Squall, I have never heard or seen any mention of horses. They have chocobos, but not horses).  
  
'Horseman' must be referring to me. So what about me?  
  
I'm also the only one who's ever gone into Hell. So it's got to be me.  
  
I vaguely notice that Seifer is being flung across the room, and Zell is hanging on to the bardiche, but for reasons I know not. I don't really care or understand. I'm too focused on my thoughts.  
  
Okay, what else about Hell? Um, there's lava, and Demons. . .  
  
And Andariel was a Lesser Demon. . .  
  
A sudden crack of Quistis' whip echoes through the room, drowning out all other sounds, as it hits the human like back of Chiron, leaving a bright red welt that bleeds profusely. The Centaur rears suddenly, his movement causing Zell to lose his grip and drop to the floor. Immediately after her attack (while the Centaur is still acting out) she brings her palms together, and is surrounded by a light blue aura.  
  
A large ice shrapnel forms, and flies straight at Chiron, heading right for his heart.  
  
Everything slows down. . .  
  
After an eternity, the ice cuts through his flesh, and comes out the other side. Chiron stumbles slightly in mid rear and lands down on his feet rather hard. Quistis' attack forced the Centaur back far enough that Zell would not be crushed by the hooves, but the martial artist is very slow to get back up to his feet.  
  
Unnaturally slow. . .  
  
Chiron laughs, and reaches up, and with a gut wrenching motion, he pulls the ice clear out of his body, barely grunting in pain. Zell gets up (rather wearily) just in Time to see the blood coated piece of ice being hurled at a stone wall where it shatters into hundreds of small pieces, right above where Seifer lay. The cold lands on Seifer, and coaxes him out of semi consciousness (he hit that wall pretty hard), causing the blonde to stumble to his feet.  
  
A lot has happened, but I'm still stuck on one moment.  
  
Quistis shot a spell of ice. . .  
  
// Suddenly, I hear a sigh from behind me, and before I have Time to react, there is a fairly loud roaring noise. Kinda like the sound our fire would make, if they could ever get it started. Anyways, I try to turn around, as the sound is coming from the same direction as the sigh - [Quistis,] my mind states, recognizing that sigh - and I swivel just in Time to see a large flaming orb pass right through me. \\  
  
Andariel was weak to fire. . .Hell represented fire. . .And this is also where I fought Andariel all those years ago. . .  
  
It would only be fitting that the new Demon here (he was even placed in the exact same room as she was) was also weak to fire. Tyrael even made a big spectacle with the torches coming alight, much like they did in that dream I had.  
  
Tyrael. . .You old fool. . .  
  
[Guys! The torches! He's weak to fire!] I gain everyone's attention, every the bleary eyed glance of Seifer, [Just trust me! Quistis? Can you do another fire spell?] All I am greeted with is a nod. It's good enough.  
  
And finally, I have an answer to a question I had not even the Time to think about. I was wondering why Seifer's gunblade seemed to do so much harm. You would think that Tyrael would leave something with a rather thick hide behind, kinda like that Afflicted that attacked the SeeDs and trainees. . .  
  
The reason the Hyperion did so much damage is because it's a gunblade. And, therefore, when you make it explode (like Hell if I know how they do that), you cause a little burst of flame. And it's weak to that fire. If only there had been some trick that could have been pulled on the Afflicted that Squall would have trusted me on. . .  
  
Speaking (or thinking) of which, where did that thing come from? I've only known them to exist in this world. . .  
  
Quistis begins the now well known ritual of raising her hands, and she is once again surrounded by a bright red aura. . .A far brighter aura then last Time. . .Nothing happens at first, and then a little ball of yellow light forms in the gaping cavity that is the monster's chest. There is a moment in which it just hovers there, the blood dripping down and through it, showing that it is not an actual physical object, when suddenly it disappears.  
  
Everyone (except Zell, who has for some odd reason run over towards the entrance) watches, even Chiron, and after a tense moment, the ball reforms, and immediately explodes.  
  
Once the smoke clears, Chiron whinnies in sheer pain (that hissing sound more prominent then ever) and he rears away from Quistis, backing up towards Seifer, who still hasn't fully regained his senses. The blonde is able to stumble out of the way (albeit slowly), weakly raising his gunblade. . .  
  
With his left hand. . .And Seifer isn't left handed. . .  
  
Oh, I sense a broken arm. Ouch.  
  
Chiron's chest is now heavily burnt, and for the first time since this battle started, there's pain in his eyes. He begins slowly backing away from Quistis, before suddenly charging at her. I guess he thinks that if he can take her out, then he's good again. What he doesn't know is that Zell has just ran up behind him, holding one of the torches from the entrance. It's a good four feet long with a strong flame at the end, so he's got a good enough range to keep out of the fray.  
  
However, he doesn't immediately start attacking Chiron. Instead, he walks up calmly behind the beast and puts the flaming end of the torch to the monster's tail. Having a normal horse tail (except sized properly for his body), it catches fire quickly.  
  
It isn't long until Chiron notices that his ass is actually on fire.  
  
The result is him doing his best to put out the fire, while trying to out run Zell (who's chasing him like an idiot, shouting and waving the torch). He fails though, and his tail is disintegrated right up to the scales. The fire wears out after that, but a case of hot ass didn't seem to please him any more than did the fire spell into his chest.  
  
Meanwhile, Quistis and Seifer are laughing so hard that I'm afraid Seifer's gonna drop or choke or something. Quistis, still chuckling, raises her hands and begins forming another spell. Another white aura surrounds her, and she once again heals a comrade, though this Time her target is Seifer. His stance straightens a bit, but he's still looking rather pale.  
  
"Admit it," the blonde gunblader mutters, surprisingly weakly, "You've lost. Give up and show us where the body is, and we'll let ya live."  
  
Chiron shakes his head, {I shall never! Not even in death!} And thus the Centaur again charges, this Time at Seifer. The gunblader is not yet far enough out of it yet to be defenseless, and so he raises his weapon, but before he can do anything, Zell jumps in between them, waving the torch. Chiron halts and rears, landing without the usual thunderous clap. The horse part of him begins to fret as Zell starts backing him into a corner. As they near the throne, the Centaur realizes the intent of the martial artist, and begins to try to flee around Zell and towards the others. Quistis cuts him off, standing next to Zell with a fire spell forming before her, a smile on her face. Again Chiron comes to a screeching halt, and begins backing up. Zell takes a sudden feint at the Demon, and Chiron just about falls on his butt trying to scramble away, eliciting a laugh from the three. Seifer walks up behind the other two, positioned between them and a little bit behind, his smug smirk back in place. There's pride and victory in his eyes. He knows they've won.  
  
"Time to die, Chiron, any last words?" the blonde gunblader asks, taking another step forward and raising one hand, palm facing outwards. It's aimed at the Centaur, and it's similar to how Quistis was doing her magic, so I assume that's what he is doing as well, though I usually imagine the women better with magic.  
  
Quistis sill has her aura, and the light forming between her hands, but she's not using the spell, kinda like she's holding it there as a threat.  
  
{You are indeed mighty Mortals, but know this: All Deamons have their weaknesses, not all of them fear fire,} Chiron takes a brief glance in my general direction, and gives the area a knowing look. He looks back towards the others, {I can hear your accomplice, but I can not see him. Tell me, is he the spirit of the being that rests within these halls?}  
  
"Uh. . .Yeah, sure," Zell replies, though he's agreeing more out of uncertainty then out of understanding.  
  
{Then I have failed. Be strong Mortals, for the love of God shall never return to you once you step through the door.}  
  
"Ah, shove it up your fucking ass," Seifer says, sounding a bit stronger than before, "You're history." With that, eight orbs form around Seifer, each a dark grey, with lighter grey symbols, surrounding him in a circle. He and the others (to the amazement of both myself and Chiron) begin to fade away, and just before they are completely out of sight, I catch a glimpse of Seifer rubbing that scar of his, the matching one to the one he gave Squall several years ago. His finger follows it up the bridge of his nose, and back down.  
  
By then, he and the others have gone.  
  
Did they just leave us here? Like, I know I should be thankful that they've come this far, but still, why leave now? It would just be one big wasted effor-  
  
Suddenly, out of the ground, a large red beast rises, standing on top of a steadily forming ball of molten lava. It looks like a cross between a lion and a goat, or something with large back horns that are straight on the whole, but twist and turn. Its mane is a fiery red, while the main part of its body is a reddish brown. Its eyes are small black coals that burn deeply within its sockets, and it just radiates confidence.  
  
Hmm, reminds me of Seifer.  
  
It stands cockily on the growing sphere of lava, rising slowly into the air. It has its massive, muscled arms folded across its chest, the large black claws tapping against its skin, as if in annoyance.  
  
The sphere rises up high (and suddenly, its as if the ceiling is not there anymore, instead the ball just keeps rising up higher into the darkness), and suddenly, the beast jumps off the top of the orb, and floats around behind it, his mane floating in an unknown breeze. He comes up behind it, and raises both fists, pounding them into the sphere. The giant orb comes crashing down back to earth, and with wide eyes, Chiron watches as the molten rock smashes into him and spells out his doom. The sphere continues on briefly, sinking deeper into the ground, before suddenly it fades. And so does the lion beast.  
  
And the others come back into view, back into the exact same positions they were in before.  
  
The sphere may be gone, but Chiron isn't. His eyes are still locked in that same stare, now looking at nothing, when suddenly, his whole body just collapses into itself, somehow (even now that the spell is done) catching fire. His whole body compresses, concaving upon itself. His chest collapses and sprays blood, there's the sickening sound of bones crunching, and all the while his body is being burned ever so slowly.  
  
Within moments, all there is left of Chiron is a small black orb floating where he stood only so long ago. The orb at first remains suspended, before plummeting down to the stone floor, and splattering. It explodes much like how a water drop would have done, and the black residue soaks through the cracks in the stone.  
  
And thus, is the end of Chiron, the Guardian of my tomb.  
  
". . .So, Link," Seifer says, facing me, "How'd you know it's weakness?"  
  
[Um, well. . .The guy who sealed me here had a real love for similarities. . .patterns, if you will. The Demon I fought here, long ago, was also weak to fire. That, and a few other things, helped me to realize that it didn't like fire.]  
  
"Oh, well, as long as it worked," Quistis replies, looking thoughtful, "Say, where are we supposed to go now? Chiron didn't say where the door is."  
  
"Ah, don't worry about it, I'm sure we'll find it sooner or later," Zell says, a hand clutching his ribs.  
  
"Oh, Zell! Sorry! I forgot you guys are injured! Here, come over to the wall and sit down, and I'll get right to healing you." She leads them over to the wall, and hardly before they have had a chance to sit down, Quistis starts casting her spells. After about three or four, she suddenly decides that there is nothing more she can do for them, but they both already look far better. Seifer looks like he can use his arm again, and Zell is breathing a lot better. She helps them to their feet, and walk over towards me, rather slowly, but that is to be expected.  
  
Click.  
  
Everyone stops and looks at Zell, he's standing on that same step he punched before. It sunk in a little with the weight of his foot, and after staring at it for what feels like an eternity, he suddenly jumps off of it. The sudden motion makes him raise a hand to hold his ribs, probably causing him an extraordinary amount of pain, but otherwise he looks fine.  
  
He lands, and we all watch as the switch slowly raises itself back up to floor level.  
  
And suddenly, everything collapses.  
  
I watch as the flooring beneath the others drops and they fall with it. A large expanse of the stone flooring drops down, leaving a hole that disappears into nothingness, and the others disappear into the black, while I remain, floating, above the abyss that has devoured them.  
  
[Guys?] I look down, but not even my handy ghost vision can help me see down there. Without a second thought, I plunge into the darkness. I follow it down, worrying whether this hole has an ending to it or not, when suddenly, I can see an red light up ahead. Of course, the change is welcome, and I speed towards it, the thought on how Zell fell with that torch still in his hands rather reassuring.  
  
I emerge out on to a room, completely made out of some kind of dark stone, and in the center, there's a large pit. In that hole, there's a small circular island, made from that same kind of rock, floating above the dark abyss beneath it. There's a bridge that connects the island to the rest of the chamber, but the bridge is slightly on fire. The flame doesn't spread, however, and I think I might know why.  
  
Tyrael didn't want to block off the island, he wanted to scare people away.  
  
Surrounding the edges of the island are walls of fire, rising up five feet easily into the air, existing without any form of fuel. They, however, have left an opening just in front of the bridge, allowing access without being heavily burned. A few of the planks on the bridge are broken as well, but it's all a ruse. That rope bridge will hold, it's just meant to look as if it's going to collapse any moment.  
  
In the center of the floating island, there's a large crystal jutting straight upwards from the ground, black and as dark as the night. In it are bright red ruins, painted on, or just held there by magic, I do not know. The crystal, around fifteen feet in height, is covered in many tentacles, much like those a squid would have, and they are wrapping themselves around the crystal almost protectively, and very tightly.  
  
And, at the base of this crystal, being held back by the tentacles, is a white figure.  
  
My body. . .  
  
I don't know how come I can't see my body in detail, I mean, my body looks like how Zell described me; surrounded by a large aura, and so bright I can't really make anything out.  
  
However, I can feel it calling to me. . .I'm almost complete.  
  
"Link?" Zell asks, detangling himself from the pile of rubble and his companions, "Is that you? Out there, on that. . .Island thing?"  
  
[Yeah.]  
  
Quistis and Seifer have now as well straightened themselves out, and are also staring. But I can no longer just look upon my body. . .I must be one with it again.  
  
[Guys,] I say, having a hard time to form whole words, due to my anxiousness, [I need you to go over there, and free me. I'll have some equipment lying about, near the base of the crystal. Could you. . ?] I leave the question hanging, unsure of what words to use in this situation.  
  
Quistis nods, and I speed over the bridge and towards my body. . .I still cannot see it fully, but that doesn't matter now. I take one second to do a last gaze upon myself, before I can contain my urge no longer. I float into my body, and almost instantly, I can feel things changing.  
  
There's a great surge of energy that runs through me - and my body - followed by a bright flash of white light that destroys all other sight. . .  
  
I remember no more. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I nod, and Link suddenly flies across the bridge and into the figure at the base of the crystal. We run over, myself in the lead with Seifer and Zell following closely behind. At first, nothing happens, but by the time we reach his body, the pale young man that's being held back by so many tentacles suddenly jerks. There's a bright flash of light, and it fades, withdrawn back into the body and into the strange altar.  
  
At first, the wild thoughts of the boy being dead appear in my mind, when suddenly the boy jolts again, and his eyes shoot open. My eyes meet with his, orbs of a light blue, gentle and yet tough, and hauntingly beautiful. The surprise forces me back a step, and I hardly notice that I bump into Seifer's chest.  
  
The young man before us is somewhat short, just a little shorter than Squall with bright blonde hair, though in this red light (the light seems to be coming from the abyss below and the fire all around) he looks tired and worn, beaten and destroyed. He regards us slowly, with those eyes of his, showing a slight hint of fear, and wildness, and great pain, before he again hangs his head. It doesn't drop far, for one of those tentacles, about as thick as my arm, is coiled about his neck, holding up his head. His eyes don't met ours again. Link is a very lithe looking man, skinny (a little unnaturally so), but I can see that he's got some muscles on his arms. What did Selphie tell me that kind of build was called? Cut, or something.  
  
He is almost naked, except for a small black towel wrapped around his waist. I guess it was a part of the sealing ritual.  
  
"Quistis, come on. You can check him out later," Seifer winks at me, and I sigh, "Let's just get him out of here for now, okay?"  
  
I nod, and look about. He never told us how to free him! He was in such a rush, that he must have forgotten to say something about that important aspect of our rescue mission here. I relay my thoughts to the others, and their faces droop a little. I suggest that we find a way to release him, and they quickly agree. I turn back to face Link, who is staring at me again, the wildness in his eyes has faded slightly. He looks me in the eye, before his mouth moves, ever so slightly. He whispers something, something so barely audible that I can not properly hear it, and so I lean in closer, putting my ear almost to his mouth.  
  
". . .please. . .can't. . .save me, please. . .?" his hot breath blows against my ear, and his voice fades. I back up and look at him again, and his head is back down. It also appears that after what he has said, the tentacles around his waist and his wrists, have tightened again. He stands upright, knees slightly buckled, and his arms out above his head and out to the sides, forming a sort of 'Y' shape to his imprisonment. His blonde bangs fall in front of his face, and his breath comes slow and ragged. The tentacles wrap around him, holding him tightly in their coils, slithering and encircling him, holding him here.  
  
"What should we do?" Seifer asks from behind me, and without facing him I shake my head. He still didn't tell me how to help him, how to free him. I look about, before grabbing one of the tentacles and pulling hard. Accomplishing nothing. The tentacle tightens on his arms some more, and I hear him groan slightly. This must be causing him some horrific pain.  
  
Seifer moves up beside to help me, but I raise a hand, "Don't touch the tentacles. They'll just tighten on him. There's got to be another way. . ."  
  
And then I see it. On the boy's chest, there is a patch of skin that's a bit lighter than the surrounding flesh, fashioned in a bit of a star shape, five points and upside down compared to the normal way such a figure is usually drawn, so that the single point that is at the top is instead at the bottom. And out of the center of this strange scar, in the very center of his chest, pokes out a cylindrical jewel. It's a blue, a bit darker than the blue of his eyes, and it pokes from his chest and out about two, two and a half inches.  
  
Hyne, it looks as if someone stabbed him with that thing. . .it's embedded into the flesh, and I can see the red of his muscles around its edges.  
  
Is that how I free him?  
  
I look to see that Link is looking at me again, and there's great pain and sorrow in his eyes, as his lips attempt to move again. I lean in closely to prevent him from having to repeat himself, ". . .stone. . .t-take it out. . .just pull. . ."  
  
"Okay," I whisper in response, "We'll get you out of here," I grab the stone in my hand, gently, afraid to harm him, "Please forgive me, this may hurt a little.  
  
He nods, and continues staring at my face as I pull on the stone, hard, but not hard enough to forcibly harm him. It does, however, begin to come out slowly. He cries out in pain and arches away from me, his head drawn back. I continue to pull, but it starts sliding back into him again, so I pull even harder. It seems almost like the gem gets caught in his chest, when it suddenly comes loose. It flies from my hands and rolls over near Seifer's feet, but he's soon by my side as we watch.  
  
The stone had flashed once, and that light was now buzzing through Link, and as it reached his limbs it disappears. As do the tentacles, they just fade into thin air, leaving their captive without any support. Link pitches forward limply, but Zell quickly runs over and catches the boy, laying him gently on the floor. Link is lain on his back, and I quickly kneel next to him.  
  
His eyes are closed, and he is definitely unconscious, but his breathing is already a little more regular. I look over him, and try to determine his current health, and if he is going to survive.  
  
Well, one thing is for sure. The boy is all skin and bones, I can see his ribs quite clearly through his skin. His stomach is caved inwards, and not in any healthy way. This boy is seriously underweight. His cheeks are a little shallow, and his skin is very pale.  
  
What I had earlier taken to be a towel, was actual clothing. The only thing is that it had actually rotted and still clung to his skin. There was also another tatter of the fabric around his left elbow. The original colouring of his clothes might have been green, though I cannot be sure.  
  
How long had he been down here?  
  
The wound in his chest from the strange jewel was not bleeding, but it didn't fade or heal up, even when I cast a cure spell on him. But at least he is not losing blood, so I will just have to take a better look at it later. For now, I think it will be okay to leave it alone as long as we take care not to disturb it.  
  
I take a closer look at his face, moving his hair away to see. . .  
  
Oh, Hyne. . .  
  
"Um, we have a bit of an. . .unsuspected surprise here," Seifer and Zell immediately surround me, and look at what I have found. The boy has large pointed ears, long and pointed backwards, angled rather closely to his skull, though they do stick out somewhat as they progress.  
  
"What the Hell? He's an. . .what is it called? An Elf?" Seifer asks from beside me, sounding curious and confused. As far as I knew, Elves only existed in fairy tales and legends. I thought they were just a part of children's stories. . .So they actually exist?  
  
"I guess. . .We'll. . .just have to ask him once he wakes up. For now, I suggest we get him out of here," I say, looking at where we had fallen from, "But how do we get up? Never mind, how do we get him up?"  
  
"I'm sure one of us can climb up or something, and then drop a rope down. It's all good, I think I could do it," Zell says, having regained some of his vigor. Earlier, his ribs were broken, but a slight healing spell, and the proper realignment of his bones helped to heal him quickly. Now, he's almost as active as usual.  
  
I look over to Seifer, "He said his equipment was around the base of the crystal, could you check? Although, after looking at what's left of his clothing, I guess most of it won't be of use. Still check it out, and anything that still works should be brought. Okay?"  
  
He nods, and then walks over to the base of the crystal and starts looking for anything. I watch him for a moment, as he sorts through an extremely small pile of belongings. I turn to face Zell, who's run ahead and started looking for a way back up and out of this secret room. He's completely absorbed in his work, trying to scramble up the near vertical cliff face, and as he slips back down, I find myself wondering if that boy can actually feel pain. By the time his feet touch the floor, he's already scrambling back up, only to slid right back down. He is slowly managing to get higher up, but it looks like a slow process.  
  
Of course, I don't know much about rock climbing, so I can't be sure.  
  
As I walk over to lend him a hand, my foot hits something. I look down to see the stone lying at my feet, it's cool ocean blue surface glittering at the tip of my shoe. I can half fancy that I can see the waves billowing in the small stone, but I know it's just a trick of my imagination. It shines, and I find my attention drawn deeper towards it.  
  
Maybe I should take it and give it to Link when he wakes up?  
  
I guess I should, as I have no idea as to what it does, but I am sure he knows. It could be important.  
  
My mind made up, I squat down and pick it up in one gloved hand, and I slowly stand, still gazing in its depths.  
  
It is like nothing I have ever seen before, beautiful beyond all belief. It seems to have no definite size, as it almost appears to glow, that depthless blue radiating and pulsing. Such a beautiful stone. . .  
  
But it's blue. . .was not like the blue of Link's eyes. That blue. . .it was gentle, and yet commanding. Strong and yet kind.  
  
What a weird young man.  
  
I pocket the stone, and look back at the unconscious boy. He's breathing better now, though he stirs slightly in his sleep, as if he is having a bad dream.  
  
But it's alright now, he won't be living one anymore.  
  
He shivers, and I suppose that it would be because he is cold. Understandable, completely. Even with this fire all around, I am a bit chilled, and there he is, having spent Hyne knows how long trapped in this place, with barely a scrap of clothing. I'm surprised he hasn't freezed to death.  
  
I reach into the pack I have on my back, and pull out a blanket from within. I lay it on him, and soon he ceases shivering, though he still tosses. It's a lot better than letting him freeze, and besides, it looks like it's going to take Zell a bit longer to find his way up the slope.  
  
I only hope that he can get up that cliff wall.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N :  
  
(Updated: 1:22 AM July 31: Hey, sorry about the spells and summons being a little off in looks, I can't remember for the life of me what they look like, and I'm a long ways away in the game from coming across such things (though I suppose Ifrit is already in my junctions. . .) so sorry if the spells are off. If you have a problem with this, just calmly state it in the review, and I'll work on getting to such a point in FF8. Of course, this would take time, and I wouldn't get as much of the story done, meaning slower updates. So, I suggest just going with it, but if it bothers you that bad. . .well, then just let me know, k?) 


	11. Chapter X Taste of Freedom

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter X - Taste of Freedom  
  
~*~   
  
Sluggishly, I open my eyes. . .only to be instantly blinded by a painfully bright light. I groan and turn the other way in my bed, feeling strangly weightless, and horribly weak. Within moments, I'm curled right back into the blankets, relishing the warmth.  
  
. . .Wait a minute.  
  
I sit up, or try to, and merely am forced to lay back down, as for some reason I can't remember, I feel too weak. I try again, and fail, and so I survey my surroundings from where I lay. The bright light has faded slightly, or I've gotten used to it enough to keep my eyes open without burning a hole into my skull.  
  
I'm somewhere, warm and soft, and suspended.  
  
Warm? Soft?   
  
It is only then that I realize that I can feel. The pads of my fingers brush against what I can see to be a white blanket, most likely made of cotton. I can feel the way my bed swings as I move ever so slightly - meaning that I'm in a hammock - and how the material molds to my body. I have my head on a pillow, a little firm, but not that I can complain, after how long of not being able to sleep on a bed. My hair falls into my face - blonde, I notice. I had almost forgotten the color - and tickles my cheeks. The fact that I can tell that my hair is blonde, without having to assume that by shades of gray, but actually being able to see color is something of a marvel. I can see color! I take a quick glance at my arm, to see the pale flesh there. Pale pink flesh.  
  
Hylains are usually quite pale.  
  
I move my fingers, ever so slightly - even the smallest movement seems so hard for me to do - and if I could, I swear I would be jumping for joy. Right now, I'm contented to simply hang here, feeling hundreds of sensations I haven't felt in so long. Like how the cool air from the window behind me is blowing over my face and bare chest, bringing chills to my spine. Like how good it is to hear and feel myself breathing again. So many things. . .  
  
This is heaven. . .  
  
"Well, you sure look happy,"   
  
"You wouldn't believe how good this feels. . ." I mumble, my eyes closed in bliss, "And how nice it is to hear your voice. . ."   
  
"My voice?" Quistis asks, "What do you mean? Couldn't you hear it before?"  
  
"Before, when you or the others talked, it was like. . ." I swallow roughly. I think that feeling in my throat means I'm thirsty, but it's been so long that I can't really be sure, ". . .Like I was listening to you guys through a wall, or another kind of barrier. I could hear you, but it was kind of muted."  
  
"I see," she answers, a faint motherly tone to her voice, "Well, I bet you want a drink. And maybe something to eat. You definitely could use it."  
  
"What do you mean?" I ask, finally opening my eyes and looking at her. The assailment of pink on my eyes seems to nearly blind me. Her top and her long skirt are both bright pink, her boots and gloves a black/brown. The whip she carries with her, attached to her belt at the moment, is a fiery red. Her blonde hair and her blue eyes seem to glow in the sunlight flowing in from the window, setting about her an image of grace and authority.  
  
"When we found you, you were - and are - seriously underweight. I've done some calculations, and taking into account your height, weight, and bone thickness, you are approximately forty pounds underweight. You really need to eat something."   
  
"I am not that underweight," I say, doing my best lifting up the corner of my blanket and staring at my ribs and stomach, "Okay, so maybe I am a little skinny," my stomach looks almost like it caved in, for Din's sake, "But I'm not all that hungry." Geez, my ribs look so huge, the skin's drawn tight over the bone.  
  
"You will be, once we can make something for you. I tried my best, but I couldn't get much down your throat while you were unconscious. Feeding a person in such a state is nearly impossible."  
  
I nod my head in understanding.  
  
"Anyway, I'll be back in a few minutes. Is some stew okay with you? I'm afraid you'll have to have only the broth right now, I don't think you should be having any solids just yet. No offense, but I just want to be careful." I answer with another nod, and she briskly walks out of the tent - I just now noticed we're in a tent that resembles a burlap sack in coloring and fabric - and she pushes the flap just to the side before leaving. The material swings back into place to cover the door and I am left to my own thoughts.  
  
She's right, if I were to try and get up right this minute, I wouldn't make it more than three steps. Even just lying here, I can feel the ache of weakness in my legs, arms, and back. Maybe playing things carefully would be wise.  
  
So, I guess I'm just going to have to let her play the motherly figure for a while, at least until I get some more of my strength back. That shouldn't take too long, maybe a day or so, hopefully. I hate being bedridden.  
  
For now, however, I'll be happy enough just being able to feel things again. I wonder, what does it feel like to eat something? The last part of my journey was in Hell, and since most of the inhabitants are either monsters or spirits, they don't have much to eat there. I just never realized it was this bad when Tyrael sealed me. Then again, I would have been used to seeing myself that skinny.  
  
I look around the rest of the tent. There are several other hammocks (same color and material as the tent itself, or so it seems), but only two of the eight or so around me are occupied. In one, there's a man, small, with blonde hair and brown eyes (oh Farore, how I've missed colors), and he looks rather timid. His eyes occasionally come to rest on me, but every Time he looks away quickly, as if he's afraid. The other one I can't see as well. He lays on a hammock on the other side of the room with his back turned to me. As far as I can see, he has dark brown hair, and a rather well built frame. I don't see what he finds so interesting over there though, because he's looking at the wall of the tent, and telling by the rate of his breathing he's awake.   
  
But I guess that really isn't any of my business, what he does with his Time his his own concern.  
  
Relaxing back into the hammock, I push myself into it as much as I can (which isn't far with my currently limited energy), and I stretch my stiff muscles. Something in my back pops, and I sigh.  
  
Farore, that feels good.   
  
Closing my eyes, I try not to sleep, but only relax. Though the urge to lose myself into the black is there, I ignore it as much as I can. Quistis said she would be back with the stew soon. I'm not going to fall asleep just yet. Maybe after I get something to eat (although I'm feeling not hungry in the slightest) then I might rest. But for now, I'm too interested in feeling things again. I may have my eyes closed, but right now the colors don't matter quite as much. I'm currently in a bleary tent - medical tent, probably - with rather dull colored things all around. Besides, I never lost my sight.  
  
I again run the tips of my fingers down the blanket (as far as my current weakness will allow me to), feeling each ripple in the cloth. The progress is slow and shaky, but I enjoy it. To be able to touch again. Each stitch, every seam. The way the blanket lays over my thin form. Everything. The way I can actually feel my ribs through the blanket is slightly disconcerting, but still, at least I can feel that.  
  
You'll never appreciate what you have, until you lose it.   
  
"Isn't that the truth." A sultry voice greets me, both familiar and foreign to my ears. I sit up quickly - getting a very surprised look from the blonde man when I groan with the ache of my weakness - and I look to my left.   
  
On the chair at my bedside - or should I say hammock side? - sits a woman with fiery red hair, crowning her shapely head as if with the flames of the Goddess Din herself. Her deep sea blue eyes gaze at me, calm and serene, watchful and curious. Clever, and yet, childish and playful. A half smile graces her lips, but out of mocking or good natured humor I do not know. Either way, it looks lovely on her, though I know that a full smile suits her much better. Her flawless skin, slightly tanned from all that work on the farm. She wears simple clothing, common for a farmer's daughter, but it seems to make her all the more lovely. I could never imagine her in jewels and fancy dresses anyway.  
  
"Malon," I whisper, in a voice so quiet I am almost no sound comes from my lips. I am in awe - I always am - but I am no fool. This is not real, no matter how bad I wish it was. Her hair, not as wild or unruly or just as fiery as it was in real life. Her eyes, mere cheap stones to the true sapphire eyes I remember in my youth, eyes that you would swear that you could see the waves flowing in. This being here, as beautiful as she may be, is only an attempt to recreate the most beauteous thing I have ever seen. An attempt that pales in comparison to the original.   
  
But I always knew I was never very imaginative.  
  
"Shh, Link. There are other people around, and you and I both know that I do not need to hear you talk out loud to know what you think. We don't want anyone thinking you're crazy." she smiles at me, a full smile this Time, but I do not return it.   
  
[Malon,] I think 'out loud', as it were. The illusionary maiden of my thoughts, hopes and dreams. One of my many inner demons, though the only one with a face. And seemingly sometimes, a mind of her own. An illusion fashioned in the shape of the girl I could never admit my feelings to. And, during my adventures, well, I don't know. I suppose, that after spending so long all alone, I guess, my mind went and made something for me to talk to. Loneliness can do things like that. That something became Malon, and at first, she was like the Malon I knew to exist; kind, caring, and understanding. Then, as I fell deeper and deeper into more darker thoughts, she followed me right in. And started berating me, blaming me for every possible mistake I ever made, any slip up or failure, and there she would be, laughing at how naive I was, or whatever happened to be the cause of my mess up. Every enemy I killed, every person that died because I was too late, and there she would be, sneering at me as though I were something that aught to be scorned.   
  
"I'm glad to see you out of your prison, but you left me behind for so long," the look on her face changes to one of a slight sadness, and loneliness, but I know from experience that she is just trying to pull a guilt trip on me,"You know I can't follow your spirit. I can only be with you when you are in your body. So you left me behind," she sighs, raising one hand and placing the back of it against her head, in mock grief, "And now here you are and-"  
  
[Is there anything in particular you came for? Or just to annoy me?] I think/say, no semblance of caring in my voice. Her over-dramatic antics are easily one of the most annoying things I have ever come across, and her near constant presence is rather frustrating.   
  
"Uh, fine. . .How's it feel? To be free? Is it worth it? I know that you've risked their lives by coming here, and what about that boy, Squall? He's dying or dead by now, and you use this as an opportunity to free yourself. How cruel and diabo-"  
  
[Come off it. You know I'm doing this to help Squall. With the ocarina I can save him. You know that.]  
  
"Lies!" she laughs, and as I child I remember hearing her do that. Back then, I relished that sound. It was filled with life and love, and seemed to hold all things dear in it's chiming, now, however, it reminds me of what I went through. It is not the same laugh anymore. It sounds. . .almost evil, ruthless, and violently. . .I don't know. It's filled with cunning, and that scares me all the more. I remember thinking more than once on the way to Diablo, who was in charge, me or my illusionary girlfriend? "Lies, lies, lies! You and I both know that you are not beyond selfish wishes. Of course, you'd deny it to the death, but I, I know the truth, and I hide no secrets."  
  
[It's just too bad you're not real.]  
  
"I am aware of that, Link," she replies, looking somewhat cross, her slightly transparent form folding her arms across her chest, "I may be only a figment of your deranged, crumbling mind, but I do realize that I am not 'real'. I probably understand that better than you ever will," a smile returns to her face with those words. Her eyes trace my form as I lay there, following each hill and valley in the shape of the blanket. Her eyes linger most on my thin stomach and my face. She slowly brings her eyes back to looking in mine, and I can vaguely see out of the corner of my eye her hand go and rest on mine. Of course, I can't feel it, but I can't do anything about it, either. There's not much I can do about 'her' and what 'she' does. Except maybe see a doctor.  
  
"Ah, but you wouldn't go see a doctor about little old me, now would you? You've always been very touchy about how other people think of you. If someone started accusing you of being insane, well, you'd deny it, of course. You deny so many things, Link. . .Maybe it's time you stopped lying to yourself?"  
  
[Yeah, whatever.]  
  
"Well, either way, it's good to see you again," she winks at me, "maybe you should get something to eat." Malon pats my stomach playfully, and illusion though she is, I still find myself becoming increasingly annoyed. "You look so famished!" She gets up gracefully, the hem of her skirt billowing mystically as she walks towards the door. Just before she would go through the flap, she turns back to face, me, and winks again. Then she turns and leaves, fading just as Quistis walks through the flap, carrying a tray.  
  
"Sorry about the wait, but with us being newcomers here, the people are a little. . .discourteous towards us. . ." the instructor sighs, looking more than a little stressed. She walks towards me and lays the tray gently on my stomach, and looks at me curiously. After a moments hesitation she finally speaks up, "Will you need any help?"  
  
"No, thanks. I'll be fine." She stares at me for a second, as if doubting my statement, before smiling and telling me that she'll be back later, that there's just a few things she's got to do. I watch her leave, and then I look again at the tray.  
  
I stare at the bowl of stew, and the cup that lay on the tray before reaching out and doing my best to grab the cup. My hand wavers, as I try to stretch muscles that I have not the strength to move. My hand falls short of the mark, and immediately I'm trying again. This Time, I am able to get my hand on the tray, but that's as far as it goes. I frown at my near useless hand, and am about to try again but stop when I hear chuckling.  
  
I look to my left to see the blonde man with a superior smirk on his face, as he laughs lightly. I look at him, one eyebrow arched.   
  
"Need a little help, Elf?" he says mockingly, his voice laced with hate. I feel a frown forming on my face, "Your kind should stick to things they can do."  
  
"You know," I say, suddenly feeling very, very exhausted, the weight of everything crashing down on me, "that's a pretty lame insult. So, why are you here? Can't walk or something?"  
  
The man narrows his eyes at my sarcasm, looking absolutely bitter, "Well, Elves were never good for anything, anyway. Bunch of weak pussies." He sits up in his hammock, crossing his arms. He's obviously wanting to start a little insult war here, but because of the others, I shouldn't. It'd be different if I was all alone again, then I would. In a second. Wouldn't surprise me if I got into a fight with the man and got kicked out of the town.   
  
But, I can't do that to the others, as they'd be kicked out with me.  
  
"Nice insult, bastard," I mutter, and the man's eyes go wide, "but I'm not here to test your obviously lacking vocabulary. I'm just going to continue to drink - or try to - drink my water, and we'll forget we had such an unpleasant encounter. Bother me again, and maybe things'll be a bit different." Not much of a threat, I know, but Humans usually have some kind of strange superstitions involving Elves. It comes in handy, sometimes, as all it takes is a glare and a vague threat to be left alone.  
  
The man lays back down in his hammock, and turns away from me. However, just before his eyes are out of sight, I catch a timid look from them. So I was right. He's scared of Elves. My threat should keep him quiet until he has Time to think on it and realize that I was only bluffing. Then, there'll be trouble.  
  
Looking back at my tray, I see that my hand rests only mere inches away from the cup. Absentmindedly licking my lips with my anticipation, I struggle to move my hand to grasp the object. My hand seems unwilling to oblige, but slowly (ever so slowly) I manage, finally holding the object of my struggle in my hand. Now, to get it back to my face.  
  
Bending my elbow slowly, and raising my upper body towards the cup (I wish I wasn't so bloody weak), all I really manage to do is spill several light droplets of water on myself. I'm so shaky that the cup is almost slipping out of my hands. If this keeps up, I'll end up spilling all of it before I can drink any.  
  
I'm in the process of deciding whether to put the cup back and forget about getting a drink right now, or being my usual stubborn self when seemingly from nowhere, a hand comes and grabs the cup, steadying my failing grasp. The hand guides mine to my face, and I bring the cup to my mouth, looking up at whoever helped me.  
  
Quistis stands there, leaning over me slightly, a knowing smile on her face.   
  
"I thought you said you'd be fine."   
  
"Well, um. . .I. . ."  
  
"Don't worry about it," she says, and then looks at the entrance of the tent briefly, "I really don't think you'll be walking around today, and don't worry about this," she continues, gesturing at the cup in her hands, "I won't tell the others."  
  
"Thanks," I mumble as I drink, my embarrassment forgotten. I accept the water greedily down my throat, savoring it's coolness. Goddesses, it feels like it's been so long since I've last had something to drink (and I guess it has been). I find myself in again another forgotten Heaven as the cold of the water banishes the dry, burning sensation in my throat. I down the cup in one swig, coughing after nearly choking on the contents.  
  
"You shouldn't drink too fast. You want some help with the soup?"   
  
"I. . .I guess so. . .Thanks."  
  
~*~  
  
Two days later, I'm doing my best to stand up, unaided. I sit up, and using the bed to hoist myself, I am able to get up on my feet. My knees are shaky and I can't seem to lock them, so with my arms I try to balance myself. I fail miserably, as I fall face first towards the floor. Luckily, it appears that Zell has good reflexes as he is able to catch me before my face hits the ground.  
  
He allows me to lean on him for a moment, before I struggle again to stand up again. Seifer and Quistis watch with slight interest as my knees stop shaking and I am able to take a step forwards. Zell still stands behind me, probably ready to catch me again if I fall. I don't think he'll need to. We Elves are not completely useless, after all. . .  
  
Speaking of which, on the day that I woke up, and shortly after Quistis. . .got me something to eat, Seifer and Zell came in, and started grilling me on Elves. They weren't mean or offensive in anyway about it, but it still was almost like an interrogation. I would have told them sooner, I had said, but I thought that they could see my ears. They could see me after all, and I just happened to overlook the fact that I was apparently pretty bright. Too bright for them to see the shape of my ears.  
  
Another thing they were curious about was the multitude of scars all over my body. I have an enormous amount all over my back, my chest, several on my legs, even a few on my face. They were asking me about almost all of them, and how I received them. The one that was easily the one they were most curious about was definitely the one on my neck. The large scar that Diablo gave me. The way it still hasn't healed, and how it probably never will.  
  
They asked me, and I told them a bit about myself. A little bit about my journeys, who I've met, where I came from, simple things like that. I never told them much in the way of detail, like how I told Squall. I never told them about my trek into Hell, or about the Prime Evils. I just told them that I was on a quest, and when I finished it, an ally (I didn't mention that he is an Arch Angel) thought it would be best for me to be sealed, just in case I were to go crazy. I told them about Termina, but I was vague (I did mention the battle in the moon, and I gained some skeptical looks there), but not much about what went on in there. It was a strange battle, and I can't really remember it all that well. . .It's still kind of fuzzy.  
  
Quistis was also kind enough to get me some clothes, which must have been hard considering 'Gil' isn't accepted here as a form of money. These clothes are slightly loose and rather baggy, but they're only temporary. She got me a white shirt, short sleeves with a bit of a V neck opening, while my pants are a tanned leather color, and extremely baggy. They are made out of some material, perhaps cotton, but I was never a great guesser of materials. My boots are leather, much like the ones I had before I was sealed.  
  
I must say, I think I look slightly ridiculous, but as I said before, it's only temporary (though I do like the boots). And besides, Quistis got me these, which would be rather hard considering that this town hates us, and that she has no gold pieces (apparently gold is really rare in their world), so I shouldn't be whining and complaining like this.  
  
I walk over towards Quistis and Seifer, with Zell still following. Together, the four of us walk out (rather slowly, I do notice, and for good reason. I'm still walking shakily, and my body is still feeling weak). We head to the inn, to where the others have a room. We go in, and the innkeeper lets me in without a fuss (though I can see in his eyes that he does not like the idea of having an Elf in his inn).  
  
As to be expected, I'm hardly through the door to our room - only one for the lot of us - when Seifer turns towards me and gets down to business.  
  
"So, what now? How do we help Squall?" he says, crossing his arms in a stance that just screams that there's no way to dance around the question.  
  
Not that I'd want to.  
  
"Seifer!" Quistis replies, facing the gunblader, "He's only now just walking! Give him some time!" she continues, and I find myself turning a slight shade of pink at that remark. I hate being weak. . .  
  
"Don't worry about it," I say to Quistis, before directing my attention towards the blonde gunblader, "For starters, what did you find at the base of the crystal?"  
  
Seifer sighs, and walks over to the other side of the small room, obviously looking for something. I use this as an opportunity to look around, becoming better acquainted with the tiny sleeping quarters for all of us (apparently Seifer had to threaten quite a few people into giving us the money for a room). It's square in shape, probably only six feet by six feet. There's two small cots, and two bedrolls laid out on the floor. One window, opposite to the door. A small fireplace is carved rather cheaply into the left wall. There's a small, ratty table in the middle of the room, but no chairs.  
  
I guess these people really don't like outsiders. . .  
  
Suddenly Seifer's in front of me again, holding Quistis' backpack in his hands, with his head half stuffed into it as he shifts through. I can hear a light chuckle from my right - probably Quistis - and I would probably join her in laughter if it was not for how serious this is for me. I wonder what objects of mine have survived. . .things that will remind me of my past.  
  
I used to carry around a complete arsenal of weapons and whatnot, but after the incident with Majora, I started having a really hard Time coming across money. It was either sell my stuff or starve. I kept what was irreplaceable; the ocarina, the gilded sword, and the Termina version of the Mirror Shield. Eventually, the sword was more like a knife to me as I grew, so it was sold, and soon the shield followed. I used the money to buy a proper broadsword and a large shield, but their low quality would have assured their disintegration by now. Hell, Quistis said my previous clothes had rotted on to my skin.   
  
The shield and the sword were already rusting. By now, they would be useless.  
  
That, and they wouldn't fit in the bag Seifer's carrying.  
  
Eventually his head resurfaces, followed by one of his hands. It carries in it a small, blue crystal, cylindrical in shape except for it's pointed tips. He keeps his hand flat, and allows me to take the gem into my hands to study closer.  
  
My soul stone. . .   
  
"We found this," Seifer says, letting his arm rest at his side again, "We weren't sure what it was. Quistis decided it would be best if we brought it back. It was that stone in your chest. What exactly is it? I know it was used to seal you but-"  
  
"It's my soul stone," I say, staring into the sea blue depths (tinted with black) that remind me so closely of Malon's eyes. I turn it over in my hand, appreciating the way the blue seems to ripple, then wave, as if the thing I held was no more than a glass figure holding the ocean in itself. I look up again, slightly amused by the curious looks on everyone's faces, "You're right, it was used to seal me. And, if it was to break - which is really hard to do, mind you - then I would die."  
  
"Do all Elves have soul stones?" Quistis asks, crossing her arms and holding her elbows, one in each hand. Her posture shows that she's open to anything I may have to say, unlike how the guys seem rather lost in the information. Zell looks as if he's lost and alone in some labyrinth, while Seifer at least keeps some of his composure on his face.  
  
In the form of his usual smug smile. . .  
  
"No," I answer, staring the instructor in her eyes, "I'm not exactly sure why my ally gave me one," maybe it was Tyrael and his strange need for connections and patterns again, connecting me to those who 'tainted' me in the first place, by making me share their punishment, ". . .It was definitely not necessary. . .But, now my soul is actually in this gem. . .," even the guys seem to snap out of their trances to give me a skeptical 'what-the-hell-?' look, ". . .or, at least a part of my soul is in here. It breaks, and my body'll just keel over and die. Rather gruesome, actually. I've seen it happen before."  
  
Everyone just stares at me in silence, the only movement they make would be their occasional blinking, but otherwise you'd swear they'd been turned into statues. I look at each one of them in their own turn, studying them. The way Seifer is always so smug and full of himself, while Zell is extremely open and energetic. Quistis is seemingly the only intelligent one in this group sometimes, and she always carries an air of authority wherever she goes. It must make negotiations easy for her.  
  
I just now realized that the three chosen to come with me are all blonde. It never struck me before. And with me alive and well again, that makes four blondes in one group, and if I remember correctly, the neither Irvine or Selphie or Squall or Rinoa have blonde hair either. It's kind of funny, well at least to me, keeping in mind that I've been sealed away for Din knows how long.  
  
"So. . ." I begin, trying to break their silence, "did you find anything else?" I can't help but have a hopeful look on my face. True, I didn't have much when I was sealed, but maybe. . .I don't even know why I would want anything that I used to own, such items would only remind me of my past, and that's a subject I'd rather avoid.  
  
To my dismay, Quistis shakes her head, "I'm afraid not. This was all that was there besides a heavily rusted sword, and what might have once been a shield." I sigh.  
  
"This is going to make things so much harder than before. Okay. . .we're going to have to scour the town, and see what happened to my ocarina. . ." again with the curious/skeptical looks, so I continue, without having to be asked, "It's what allows me to travel back in Time. My ally must have done something with it, and knowing his big mouth, it would have become a legend of some sorts by now."  
  
Both Seifer and Zell immediately head over to the door, but Quistis quickly cuts them off.  
  
"We should wait," she suggests, "We'll probably need Link's help, so it would be better if we waited," she faces me slowly, "Is that alright? Or should we go now?"  
  
"Well, I have dealt with the people here before. . ." [However many years ago,] a part of me whispers, and I have to refrain from visibly wincing, "So I'll probably have a better Time getting information out of them."  
  
"True enough," Seifer admits, walking over to one of the beds. He sighs and sits down on it, making it creak rather ominously. He continues to lay down, causing the weak mattress to just about collapse. After a moment, we all (except for Seifer, who doesn't look like he even noticed) release breaths that I didn't know we were holding.   
  
I thought that thing was just going to bust. . .  
  
"So, Link," Seifer says as he turns his head in my direction, his arms folded beneath his head, "why don't you tell us a little about what happened before you traveled to that Termina place? I'm rather curious. . ."  
  
I walk over to the bed, the weakness slowly coming back full force to my legs. I don't really notice, however, as my thoughts are scattered and embarrassingly selfish.   
  
When are these people going to stop asking me about my past? I don't want to think of it. Hell, I hardly remember the details. So why do they keep asking me?  
  
"Because they can't even fathom the things you've seen," a voice says from the doorway of the room. I don't have to turn around to know that it's Malon. She's probably standing there, in her commoner's dress, leaning against the doorframe. Probably smiling too, knowing her, "They'll never be able to think the way you do now, Hero."  
  
I'm not sure whether I should be glad that I am the only one able to hear her. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N : Okays, I can imagine what a few of you are probably wondering. . .What the Hell's up with Malon? Well, I'll tell you (you can just skip down if you already get it, I'm just worried I wasn't clear enough. . .).  
  
You see, Link, being alone and dejected by others, had many inner demons haunting his thoughts. Basically, parts of him that would ridicule him for his mistakes and shortcomings. Also, after being alone for so long, his mind strove to create something - or someone - for him to talk to. That someone happened to be an imaginary form of Malon. You know, he'd hallucinate her, and that way he wasn't quite so alone. However, one (or many) of his inner demons started merging with his hallucinations to become illusionary Malon!  
  
And about her not being able to follow him and all while he left his body, it would work like this (at least to me): the existence of a person is made up by three things: 1) the physical body, 2) the mind, and 3) the soul. Now, as the hallucinations affected his mind (not yet his soul, because he ain't crazy. . .at least, he isn't insane yet. . .I can't guarantee later. . .~_^ ), when his soul left his body and mind, Crazy Malon couldn't follow.  
  
1) if you still don't get the Malon part, or if I am not very clear with her introduction, please email or review me stating so, and I'll fix things. 


	12. Chapter XI Sparring Fun

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter XI - Sparring Fun  
  
~*~  
  
Sitting against the side of the outer town walls, I wait patiently for Seifer. He said he'd only be a few minutes, just quick enough to get me some equipment. We aren't ready to leave yet, on the contrary, Quistis is still caught in her motherly figure and forcing me to stay inside.  
  
She's going to have a fit once she hears about Seifer bringing me outside the town walls. She's going to absolutely explode when she finds out that he is also buying me this equipment so that we can spar.  
  
I am so dead when I get back to the inn. Even if I make it there before her, she'll easily find the sword and shield and whatever else Seifer buys (there is absolutely no place to hide anything in that room), and it won't take her long to reach a conclusion.  
  
She seems to have it still stuck in her head that I'm too weak to even leave the room.  
  
"Don't worry about it, I'm sure that she'll forgive you," Malon's sweet voice whispers from somewhere to my left. I don't bother to look up, I could also care less whether I can hear her or not.  
  
[What makes you so sure?] I sigh, looking up to see if Seifer's coming. He's not in sight, so I let my head droop again. I hear a sound that could very well have been Malon chuckling, or it could just be a bird. . .or something. Either way, it doesn't concern me.  
  
"I can see the way she looks at you, I'm not blind," my dead girlfriend continues, "She'd let you get away with anything!"  
  
This finally gets my attention, and I turn to look at her, with a rather curious look on my face, [Are you insinuating. . .?]  
  
"But of course! She's head over heels for you!"  
  
[And how would you know that? You're an illusion! You can't see or hear anything I haven't seen or heard, so you know only what I know! And I know that she doesn't like me! Alright? Drop it!]  
  
"Touchy, aren't we? Sore about your feelings, hm? You'll never forgive yourself for what happened, will you?" Malon asks, sitting on a small stone fence about five yards to my right. It has obviously been broken for a long time, but it looks like no one has even bothered to try and fix it.  
  
[No, I won't. I'm sorry, alright? That's the best I can do now. . .]  
  
"No Link. It will never be enough. If it weren't for you, adventuring somewhere far away, instead of protecting your homeland, I'd still be alive-"  
  
[You do realize that I have been sealed for, oh, by our best estimates. . .several hundred years? You would not be alive, not after all this Time. You would have died of old age long ago. For all I know, you could have died a natural death, at a nice old age.]  
  
"No, you know that's not true. You may not have your Triforce piece anymore, but you can still tell what goes on there, can't you? You've got some sixth sense about that place, you know when something's amiss. And I don't even have to ask you to know if that little alarm is going off in the back of your head. I can see it in your eyes," she says, looking deeply into my eyes. She holds me in her gaze for a long time, until I finally find the will to look away, suddenly finding the ground far more interesting.  
  
[. . .So what? I'm just. . .just worried. . .that's all.]  
  
"Oh, but you are so much more than just worried," I look up again, to see her still sitting on that fence, her dress draping elegantly over her legs, "You know that you are at fault, right? None of this would have happened if you knew where your duties lay!"  
  
[This. . .This is my duty now. I've got to help them, to make up for my mistakes. This is how I am repaying my mistakes. If you've got a problem with that, then just poof out of here. I'm tired of talking to you.] I bury my face in my hands, leaning forward with the support of my elbows against my knees. Can't she just let matters lie?  
  
"Nope!" Her voice goes cheerful again, "I've got my own duties to attend to. Can't let the Hero get lax, now can I?" Her humor falls on deaf ears, as I make no acknowledgement of my thoughts, "So, when do you plan on finding your precious ocarina? Although, I'm sure Squall's long dead by now, but what does that matter? The ocarina will fix that problem I suppose."  
  
Silence follows, punctuated only by my slow breathing.  
  
"Then again, maybe are you stalling. . .? Having as much 'fun' as you can before you have to go back in time to save the SeeD? Hmm?"  
  
[I've already told you, get lost! I am in no mood for your berating today!]  
  
"Ech, touchy, that's for sure. Well, anyway, I guess I'm off then. Good luck sparring, and watch out behind-"  
  
[Yeah, I know.]  
  
Malon's presence fades back into the depths of my mind, and I sigh. With her gone, peace and quiet ensues, all except for-  
  
"I know you're there, Seifer," I mumble, and there's an audible curse from my left. Seifer comes out from the bushes he was hiding in, brushing himself clean of leaves and twigs as he steps into my view. I look up, to see him carrying a rather plain broadsword, a belt with many compartments, and another belt, but this one obviously meant to be a shoulder strap for holding a sheath in place against the back.  
  
How did he know I like to fight that way?. . .Did I tell him at some point?  
  
"I was just testing if you were as alert as they say Elves are," he stated, sounding like he was defending his pride. He walks over to me and drops the stuff rather unceremoniously on the ground to my right, before motioning for me to stand up.  
  
"So, am I as alert as they say Elves are?" I ask without commitment, not really caring what the answer is. Seifer pulls me away from the wall, before grabbing the sword and it's required belt (the one designed to strap it to my back).  
  
"Yeah, I guess," he says, suddenly pulling me towards him, "Hold still." He flips the belt over top of me, turns me around, and then pulls the belt tight. I can feel him adjusting the length at the back, his occasional strong tugs throwing me off balance and stumbling, before he rights me and starts all over again.  
  
Needless to say, it isn't long before I get ticked off and jerk away from him. Righting myself properly, I pull at the belt until the buckle is in front of me, on my chest. I quickly do it up, tightening the contraption just enough that it's snug, but doesn't interfere with my breathing.  
  
Seifer mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like 'fine then', before attaching the sheath to the backstrap through another set of harnesses. He manages to do it nice and quickly this Time.  
  
That done, he hands me the sword. I'm guessing by the look on his face that he expected me to not be able to handle it, due to my smaller size. However, the surprise on his face is priceless, as he sees me swing the sword in a perfect X fashion, twisting my grip on it slightly at the end of the second slash so as to get a better look at it's hilt.  
  
The blade itself is about four feet in height, and the width of the blade is at least three to four inches. The thickest part of the metal is a good quarter inch of solid steel. The sword on the whole looks almost beautiful in it's plainness, from the gray metal of the hilt to the similar greyish leather straps that will one day help me grip this sword. Maybe today, if we ever get to sparring.  
  
The end of the sword comes to a rather sharp tip, only about twice as wide as a rapier usually is (though it remains flat to the tip). I wonder, does that mean this sword is good for both slashing and piercing? From my experience with swords, I would think so, but often I have found that weapons can be crafted to be completely deceiving. Once. . .well, that doesn't matter any more. My childish nativity is no longer so dominate in my thoughts. I'm wiser now, far wiser then I was all those years ago.  
  
"It was the best I could get with the money we've got," the gunblader shrugs, "Same with this other stuff. When we get back to Garden, we'll be able to get you better equipment."  
  
"It's good," I say, donning the equipment belt around my waist, "You don't have to worry about it, this should be fine."  
  
He shrugs again, neglecting to give me a verbal reply.  
  
"No offense or anything. . .but what about a shield?"  
  
"Didn't have the money for one, but it doesn't matter, does it? I mean, I could teach you how to fight without a shield-"  
  
"I already know how," I interrupt, "but, it's been a really long Time. . ."  
  
"Well then," Seifer states, crossing his arms, "You ready?" I nod, and we both fall into battle stances. Seifer draws his gunblade from its sheath which is attached to his side, while my own sword is already drawn. He stands in the same kind of stance that I have seen him do everytime I have seen him fight, but it still surprises me.  
  
He holds his gunblade in one hand, at about head height, straight out from his shoulder. His elbow sticks straight out from his shoulder, giving off the impression that it can't be comfortable to fight that way. However, the devilish grin that appears on his face proves me otherwise, as he stands ready to 'kick my ass', as he so blatantly stated earlier while we were still at the inn.  
  
I, on the other hand, simply hold my new sword in my left hand, deceivingly limp. My other hand, the one on which I used to carry a shield on, hangs by my side uselessly. I'm sure Seifer is thinking how amateurish I am, while I have similar thoughts about him. He is showing off all his skill with his gunblade, while I'm at least trying to hide any of my skills from sight. I find that this works well, giving me a large advantage during battle.  
  
I'm usually underestimated.  
  
"No using your trigger," I say just loud enough for the gunblader to hear, my eyes narrowing slightly, Squall's old suspicions suddenly coming across my mind. For many of those training sessions, I was there, with Squall, watching the two of them fight. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that they were fighting to the death. That one Time, when Seifer gave Squall his trademark scar, I was sure that someone was going to be killed. . .When Seifer struck Squall across the bridge of his nose, and gave the brunette that scar. . .I was worried, but I had promised myself not to directly interfere.  
  
But I did purposely push Squall's body into a rage.  
  
I was thinking. . .that it would be best for Squall to fight back against his impending unconsciousness for as long as he could. I had thought that Seifer had betrayed Squall, had lured him out for a training match only to wind up trying to kill him. I thought that if I could give Squall some kind of push. . .he might survive or hopefully kill Seifer. . .or both. He did manage to give Seifer a scar, eerily similar to the one he had received only moments before. Then he passed out.  
  
"No using your trigger," I repeat, the hush of battle beginning to fall on me. I don't know why I repeated myself, I could have done it to shake my thoughts and bring me back to reality, or just to confirm that I had said it in the first place. When I think about things that I regret, I often lose my touch with reality. I go into a world of deep thought. I probably would fall into that realm again, if it were not for the battle that is immediate.  
  
"Tch, you're no fun," Seifer smirks, though I am not sure whether he planned to use the trigger on his gunblade or not. Even I know that when that trigger is pulled, it releases a minor shockwave of explosive power. The name of a gunblade is not solely derived from the handle being shaped like a gun's handle after all. Bullets are loaded into the gunblade, and the trigger is pulled to fire them. I know at least that much from watching Squall.  
  
If he were to pull that trigger, when the blade was near my head, it is most certain that I would be gone, from the shoulders up.  
  
Although, it would probably work good for knocking my weapon out of my hands. The explosion, if Timed right, could knock the blade from my grasp. And, as the blast is more concentrated than spread, if he were careful to keep a good distance between the blade and my head, he could do it without killing me.  
  
Surprising how much you can learn, after watching from a first person (near first person) perspective of a gunblader for a few years.  
  
Suddenly, Seifer lunges at me, his right arm is angled for a strong horizontal blow with the gunblade. His other hand acts as a balancer, helping to support his sudden moves and great speed. He approaches quickly, and I do not move. I'll let him have the first strike.  
  
He swings his blade, a horizontal strike aimed for my neck. I duck, my superior speed coming in advantage as Seifer's gunblade zooms right over my head, missing by a mile. The gunblader seems surprised as he follows through, his momentum forcing him to finish the attack, which means I have plenty of Time for an attack. I run to the right, to the opposite way that Seifer slashed. As a result, I am soon facing the back of my opponent, while he's till trying to regain his bearings. I raise my sword to attack, but by some stroke of luck, Seifer knows that now would be the best Time to dodge, and he just manages to avoid the downward slash of my blade.  
  
"Remember," I can hear Malon say from somewhere off to the side, "this IS a training match, you're not supposed to kill him. However, I guess his eventual death will probably be your fault anyway, so. . ."  
  
[Shut up!] I shout in my mind, hoping that will keep her quiet. A fruitless attempt if there ever was one, but it's all I can do.  
  
Seifer has moved to the side, spinning around to face me. His gunblade is raised back into its original position, he stares at me, but no longer with his usual smugness. Now, anger and slight humility place themselves on his features. I guess he's thinking that I've managed to make a fool out of him.  
  
He hasn't seen anything yet.  
  
I run at him, holding my broadsword in both hands and slightly off to my left side, preparing for a slash. He looks ready for my attack this Time, and my guess is proven right as when I perform the diagonal strike, he is quick to block. Our blades meet and clash, and then the world is just composed of the two of us, fighting for something that doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is thrill of the battle and the speed at which death can fall upon us.  
  
. . .Or, at least that's what I feel.  
  
We strain against each other, Seifer's got the superior strength but I seem to have more sword skill then him, so it's rather even in the end. Finally, to break the hold I again dodge out of the way, causing the gunblader to falter as the resistance to his weapon is suddenly removed.  
  
I take a quick step back, before charging at him again, keeping the sword I now own close to my side, the tip angled for a thrust. I near him quickly - surprisingly so - and it's all he can do to find the Time to dodge to the side. The broadsword (a far cry from the old sword I had before Tyrael sealed me. That was a beaut, but not as good as the Master Sword, or what I can remember of that blade) is quickly retracted from its thrusting position, and at a lightning speed, I perform a spinning slash, just without the magic.  
  
The sheer momentum I create causes me to spin in a complete circle, and from what I can gather of my dizzied sights, Seifer was just able to dodge the attack by moving back. However, he didn't dodge it completely.  
  
A single strip of his jacket falls slowly to the ground.  
  
"What the HELL was that?!" he shouts, causing me to stop my motions abruptly. I stare at him blankly, blinking.  
  
"What the Hell is what? That? You mean that spin attack?" he nods, looking slightly confused, "What about it? It is what it is, a spinning attack."  
  
"How do you do that? The attack, I mean," he asks, looking at me with a glare. I don't know, he looks suspicious if you ask me. Now that I think of it, he hasn't been all that suspicious recently. At first, I could have sworn that the first chance he had with me once I was alive again, that he would have killed me. I guess I was wrong. . .  
  
"Well, I-" I begin, not exactly sure where to start, "I swing my blade as hard as I possibly can, and I just. . .well, have to be light on my feet, I suppose. . .It's not really all that good of an attack, it's really only for when I'm surrounded. . .or as a surprise attack. . ." I end lamely.  
  
"You're gonna have to-" Seifer begins, but a voice from our side causes him to stop and both of us to turn towards our left. I look, and see Malon, who was again sitting on her broken fence, also turns to look. Behind her, several feet, stands the ever so proud Quistis, her whip in her hands as she walks over towards us.  
  
And it's only then that I remember the sparring and the weapon that's in my hands. I sheath it on to my back with a small smile and a nervous chuckle.  
  
"Seifer? What did I say about letting him out and-"  
  
"Well, if I may," I say, taking a step forward, between the fuming Quistis and the visibly nervous Seifer (nobody wants to mess with an angry Quistis), "you make it almost sound as if I am a prisoner. I'm much better now, as our little battle may have proved," a quick glance at Seifer, and after a moments hesitation he nods, supporting me against the instructor, "And it's a good thing we sparred before we left to find my instrument. What if, after we had left, we came across a group of monsters, and I was unable to defend myself? I would just be a burden then. And at least now I know that I can still fight. Personally, I don't think I was all that bad. Seifer?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, actually, you were fairly good, if I do say so myself," he says, before taking a step forward as well, "And I think it would be a good idea if we start moving soon. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can get back to Garden and help the commander."  
  
"You're not going to try to stall? I thought that you, in all your fallible glory would have tried to have a little more time before you did the important things. After all, how long did it take you to save Hyrule during the Imprisoning War, as Zelda so christened it?" Malon mutters, and I have to resist giving her a glare. She hit a sore spot, and I know that she knows that.  
  
[I did try, you know,] I mentally hiss back at her, refusing to look in her direction, preferring to keep my sights on Quistis.  
  
"True," the instructor mumbles, nodding. She takes a moment, before slowly looking at me, studying me. I can instantly feel that old anger rise up through me, but I subtly clench my fists and do my best to hide it. I have never liked it when someone has straight out judged me, as Zelda's old guise, Sheik, did so often. It just, well, angers me for someone to think that they have the right to judge me. To deem me fit for inspection and deliberation, to poke and prod at with their eyes. Deciding at a mere glance who I am and what I should be treated as.  
  
No one shall judge me, no one but the Gods.  
  
". . .You are indeed looking better, Link," she says, my name rolling off her tongue in an unnatural fashion. I understand, of course. With friends with names like: Squall, Zell, Irvine, Selphie, Seifer, and Rinoa, it's not surprising a name as simple as 'Link' would be a little awkward.  
  
. . .I never did like my name. . .  
  
"See, I thought so to," Seifer says, coming to his own defence (and therefore also reminding everyone on how this was his idea in the first place), "I saw that myself, and I thought it might be good for him to come outside and get some exercise."  
  
Quistis nods, and then she steals a look at the sword hanging on my back. An eyebrow arches, a sign of her curiosity, no doubt. She looks quickly at Seifer, and I can hear the gunblader behind me sigh lightly, "Where did you get that?" Quistis asks, her tone that of patience. But lying underneath it was also anger, and I know that when she finds out how I got my newest equipment, she's going to go on a tirade of-  
  
"I bought it for him, with some gold pieces."  
  
"That was the last of our gold!" she hisses at him, her very image becoming that of anger. She's practically radiating it. She still manages to keep her cool though, but her eyebrows are knitted in a frown. I don't know how she manages it.  
  
"Well, then" I say, trying to lighten up the mood with a cheery voice. It seems to partially work, as Quistis glances at me, most of the anger gone from her face, "We'll just have to get some more then."  
  
Maybe Malon is right about her. . .  
  
. . .But I hope not. I could not bear for her to get hurt because she likes me.  
  
"And how do you propose for us to do that?" she asks me, far less angry than before. She has both of her hands on her hips, looking at me sternly, but not with the malice she wore only a few moments ago. I sigh inwardly with relief. At least she doesn't look ready to kill someone anytime soon.  
  
"Not like it would be you anyway," Malon says loudly, and from the corner of my eye, I can catch a glimpse of her, sitting rather relaxed. She's not even looking at us, instead she's staring at her legs, swinging them back and forth lazily, still on her perch from before. I watch for a second before deciding to pay her no heed.  
  
"Monsters usually carry some gold on them, surprising as it may sound. If we can get some information, then we can head off and hopefully come across something. And, if we can't wait, I know a place near by that is - was - absolutely teeming with monsters of all sorts. We go there, and with any luck," [Depends on your definition of luck,] "there may be some new inhabitants. And, if I am not wrong in my guessing, if there are monsters still in there, then there will be someone in town more than willing to drop a few spare coins in our coffers if we can clear the cave. How's that sound?" I say, a large grin on my face.  
  
"Bravo Link," Malon shouts at me, "You know all the ways to rob the townsfolk of their money, don't you?"  
  
[Sometimes things have got to be paid for, as much as I hate saying it. And we need the money.]  
  
"Surprised you have not once yet resorted to thieving," she says, before quieting down again. Dropping the conversation for once, now there's a rarity. Usually you have to say something along the lines of 'get the Hell out of my life!', before she'll scram.  
  
Not that this is a first Time occurrence either. . .  
  
"Well," Quistis mutters, bringing up a hand to cup her chin as she thinks. The sound of her voice brings me back to reality, reminding me that we were - are - still talking about money matters. Finally, she sighs and looks up at me, and I can't help but notice that there's something in her eyes. . .and I'm hoping that it's not what I think it is. . ., "Who would we go to if we wanted to get hired?"  
  
I grin, though not fully, the implications of what I saw in her eyes (and what that ever interfering Malon said earlier) still bothering me. I mean, it's not like she's not pretty or anything, but. . .  
  
I kind of promised myself that Malon would be my only love. . .And after all these years, she still is. I have remained 'faithful', though my love of her was only one sided. She never knew.  
  
She never will.  
  
"Usually, the leader of the village knows a good deal, but I'm not sure who that would be now. I guess we should start looking and-"  
  
"No way," Quistis interrupts me, looking slightly stern again, "You two went against my wishes and had a sparring match. As a result - and don't bother denying this, I can see it on your face - you've already begun to exhaust yourself! I knew you weren't at full strength. So, go back to the inn and get some rest, we'll see what we can do on our own."  
  
"And when I wake up?" I ask, slightly wary and slightly angered. It always seems like people can tell how I'm feeling before I can. I may not be breathing hard, but I'm feeling a little. . .off balance. Like my head's too light or my body's too heavy. My energy, while not depleted, is lacking enough that I'm a little light headed.  
  
I want to argue that I'm fine, that I can live with a little light-headedness, but Quistis has a 'I-know-best' look on her face. So, rather reluctantly, I head off back towards the inn, a little sulkily, I suppose, but still I do as she asks.  
  
Maybe some rest will do me good.  
  
~*~  
  
Pain.  
  
Anger.  
  
All these things I feel, as I do my best to dodge what could very well be my death. Scrambling to run through the ruined room, avoiding the minions so I can destroy the master.  
  
Running.  
  
I trip and fall over a pile of rubble, jarring my knee hard on the floor. As I collapse to the ground from my sudden injury, I am immediately overcome by a whole league of Fallens, their little imp-like bodies scrambling over me, stabbing me repeatedly with their little scimitars. Seemingly hundreds of little cuts are made from their reoccurring attacks, but a few strike home harder than the rest.  
  
Pain lances up my left side as I feel a stretch of metal enter my skin and pierce a good few inches into the flesh.  
  
Same with the back of my right thigh.  
  
::You're just gonna give up like that?:: a part of me thinks, almost as if it's separate from the rest of myself, ::Some Hero of Time.::  
  
I push myself up as hard as I can, a hard task with the weight of so many bodies on my back. Slowly but surely I lever my body to an upright position, doing my best to scatter the Fallens as I rise.  
  
The sound of echoing footsteps is a great incentive.  
  
Staggering to my feet, I try to run, one arm clutching another as I bleed.  
  
Crimson drops hitting the floor.  
  
::You're going to die, Hero. No one can escape her fiery wrath! At least, not one so pitiful as you. . .::  
  
I run, and I stumble, trying to stay upright.  
  
Time slows and the passages seem to twist and mutate into cavernous caves, dark and foreboding.  
  
I glance a quick look over my shoulder.  
  
There she is, chasing me, that Hell Demon. Her humanoid body striding after me, taking one step to my five. She stands tall and proud, maybe about twelve feet tall, the last few feet of that being her hair, which stands on end. It's red color and its straight upward shape make it appear akin to a fire.  
  
Or is it an actual flame? I am not so sure anymore. . .  
  
Her body, tanned as though she has been in the sun, though I doubt she has ever left these cavernous halls, is naked except for a strange halter, much like one would use on animals. Her nipples are pierced with large golden rings, which are chained together in the middle, giving her a strangely dangerous look.  
  
By far the most terrifying feature about her is those four claw like appendages that are protruding from the abnormally large back muscles, which slowly turn black. Each claw is tipped with a scorpion like stinger, and I wonder if I were to get hit with one of those, how long it would take till I died.  
  
I look forward again.  
  
Booming laughter follows behind me, and I run, slowly being cornered in the T shaped room that she inhabits. She's herding me towards the edges of the room, where she and her minions can slaughter me.  
  
This is it. . .I'm going to die.  
  
::Think you fool! She's got to have a weakness. Think!::  
  
////  
  
The old, dark skinned man with the white hair laughs loudly as he leans on his old wooden cane, acting as though he's comfortable around me, though we just met, "I am Deckard Cain," he says, his voice rich and deep with knowledge, "And I hear you are going after Andariel?"  
  
I nod my head slowly, not sure what to make of the man.  
  
"Then I shall tell you what I know. She lives deep in the Monastery now, and she is one of the Lesser Demons. It used to be that Diablo and his brothers, the Prime Evils, were cast out by the Lesser Demons, but now Andariel is working for him. I guess that means things have changed in Hell."  
  
"Do you have any knowledge on how I can beat her?" I ask, my tone nervous and unsure. If what I have seen so far is of any truth, I will have never fought something like this Andariel before. She will be a hard opponent, and to avoid any mishaps. . .  
  
"Why, yes I do," he chuckles again, but I know not why, "Apparently, though she comes from Hell herself, she hates fire. I know not why, but that is what the legends tell. . ."  
  
"She comes from Hell? I thought she was a corrupted Rogue!"  
  
"No, son, no. She is indeed a creature of the dank depths of Hell itself, she never was a Rogue, or possibly anything human."  
  
\\\\  
  
Fire! Fire will get her!  
  
I run ahead, towards the torches, doing my best to draw my bow with my injured body. It aches and pains me to reach back and grab my weapon, but I have to, it's the only way I can do anything.  
  
I have not the energy to create a fire arrow, but an arrow shot through a torch will have the same effect.  
  
I run behind the metal stand of the torch, which is lit and burning brightly.  
  
Coming to a skidding halt, I turn and knock an arrow into place, and I take aim. . .  
  
And release my arrow towards the demon, watching with anticipation as it flies forward to its target, a beast so horrible, so terrible-  
  
And I watch with horror, as the Demon changes shape to that of Malon, the little Farm Girl from Hyrule. Her tall red hair falling downward to grace her shoulders, her size growing smaller and more delicate. The halter and the piercings fade away, and her face shapens to fit the look of the one I have left behind. She stares at me with sad blue eyes.   
  
I can do nothing but watch as the head of my arrow slams into her chest, no doubt hitting her heart. The arrow continues through, the shaft becoming stuck deep in her body, as she raises her hands in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. . .or pull out the arrow. I don't know which.  
  
She raises her head, as she slowly - ever so slowly - begins crumpling to the ground, and her lips move in inaudible words. . .  
  
"Y-you," she mouths, one hand moving from it's spot on her chest to point accusingly at me, "You killed me. . .All. . .your f-fault, Hero. . . "  
  
And then, she drops dead to the floor, the cold stone floor, and I sink to my knees in the suddenly desolate room. There's only two of us now, in this cavernous hall, me and Malon. Me and her. And she's dead. And I, am all alone.  
  
I fall to all fours, feeling the hot prick of tears welling up in my eyes as one of my hands pounds the floor, seemingly of its own volition. I killed her. . .I. . .I'm. . .  
  
All alone. . .  
  
-I sit up straight, startled out of my sleep. I lay in my bed at the inn, my upper body covered in a cold sweat. My chest heaves for sweet oxygen as I try to understand what happened. I lay there in the dark room for what seems like hours until my breathing slows down, and the answer comes to me.  
  
It was just a dream. . .Just a dream. . .  
  
A dream based on my memories of my battle with Andariel, the fire Demon that haunted the Monastery and forced the rouges from their homes. All of it, that was just how it happened, except. . .needless to say, I shot Andariel, and she didn't change to Malon. No, Malon was still in Hyrule, and I am still destined never to see her.  
  
I hate Destiny. It's almost as bad as Time.  
  
I am not surprised when I feel a tear roll down from my burning eyes, or when my sight blurs.  
  
I killed her. . .  
  
My hands tighten into fists.  
  
I may have not shot her, like I did in my dream, but I might as well have killed her myself. I couldn't save her.  
  
Who am I kidding? I could never save anybody.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Wow, amazingly short battle scene. And the dream (I hope it was okay) was only decided upon at last minute's notice. Um, sorry about the delay and all, but I went fishing with my father, and well, lets just say I came home with so many bug bites it looks like I've got some kind of plague. So, I've been terribly itchy the last four days or so, and until today, I found it extremely hard to sit still and not curse my brain out as my skin seemed to burn.  
  
Damn flies.  
  
Thanks for your support so far! I hope everyone is enjoying this so far!  
  
On sunday I'm leaving for a four day trip to Edmonton, so um, I'm gonna try to get another chapter out before then. I won't be able to type anything while I'm gone, but when I come back I'll resume where I left off.  
  
Also, unless anyone objects, I am going to go ahead with the name change. It will not take effect until the chapter AFTER the next chapter, so, at the end of the next chapter I'll alert you all of the new name change. If anyone objects, then it can stay the way it is. It would be changed to _____ (something) Act I : Broken Dreams. The name will be properly chosen upon by the end of the next chapter. So if you have any objections, please say so!  
  
Hey, does anybody know if changing the name deletes or get's rid of all the reviews? Because I wouldn't want that. . .I am so happy for the support you guys have given me. . .I wouldn't want to lose that. . .  
  
Um. . .what else? I knew there was something else. . .OH YEAH! Okay, I've got a friend who has just started an account (like how I did in June *sniffle*) and I would like you guys to know, her stories are awsome!! (you must read "The Night Before Christmas" that she has up.) She's got a Gundam Wing story in process, and it's looking really good ~_^ so if any of you'se are interested, just out the author "DeathsRain". You won't regret going there! ~_^  
  
Oh, and btw, if anyone is wondering who "Skobes" is, well, that's her. DeathsRain = Skobes.  
  
R+R!! ^-^  
  
Final note: :::: would be one of Link's inner demons (this is before Malon formed herself to be one of them), and he might gain a few others before the end. If so, their brackets would probably be things like / \, or (). Things like that. Outside voices like the Demons will have brackets like {}. Just so you know! 


	13. Chapter XII Mercenaries

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter XII - Mercenaries  
  
~*~   
  
The guard lets us through, rather reluctantly, motioning for us to move with a slight nod. I can't help but notice the tight grip he has on his sword, or the grim look on his face, but I move through the small wooden doorway quickly, closely followed by the others. The door slams behind us, shuddering with the force of the guard's anger.  
  
Now why do I get the strange feeling that we are not liked in this town?  
  
The room we are in is a little dark, dank den, with almost everything made of wood. There's a small fire in the fireplace directly across from the entrance, a rather plain rug in front of it, and a large cushioned chair off to the right of the rug.  
  
In that chair sits a man of about forty, his hair and well kept (but slightly rugged looking) beard a peppered color. His skin is well tanned, and his eyes have a squint to them - suggesting that this man has spent a lot of his Time out in the sun. His skin has begun to wrinkle with age, and it looks tough and worn.  
  
He has large hands which are gripping the arms of the chair tightly, the look on his face not all that much different then the one the guard had on. He's wearing normal villager type clothes - a dark brown vest over a lighter shirt, hunter green pants - none of which give any hint to his rank in this town.  
  
"So," I ask, stepping in front of Quistis and Seifer (I'm not quite sure where Zell is), "Are you the-"   
  
"I am the leader of this village. My name's Bagu. How can I help you?" he finishes for me, saying the last part with a rather distasteful tone. His eyes narrow warily as he watches me closely. . .  
  
The bastard is judging me. . .  
  
"We were, um, wondering. . ." stop looking at me like that, why don't you look at someone else? "Are there any jobs open? Monster slaying, errands we could run for someone, anything? We happen to come from a far away place, and our form of money is not excepted here, so. . .We'll do pretty much anything, as long as we can get some money. Do you have any jobs open?" I answer, doing my best to swallow my nervousness. There's a bit of a silence after my statement, where Bagu seems to be thinking over what I have said.   
  
At least he's no longer looking at me.  
  
"Well, I don't know if we have any jobs that people. . .," he waves his hand around a bit in the air, as if searching for a good word, "people such as you would be able to handle. My best archers and warriors are having a difficult time, so I doubt any of you could do anything."  
  
"Please, do not doubt our abilities!" Quistis says, stepping forward, "We have spent most of our lives fighting, we are not new to violence. We can-"  
  
"You let a woman do your talking for you?" Bagu's eyes narrow as he stares at Quistis, before he turns back and looks at me. I glance at the instructor, easily noticing the sour look on her face.  
  
"Whether she's a woman or not, she's a Hell of a lot smarter than you!" Seifer says, stepping forward now. We all stand beside each other again, in a straight row. Seifer has an indignant look on his face, filled with pride. Quistis has plain, blatant fury on her face, though she tries to hide it behind her everlasting mask of authority. And me, well, I'm kinda. . .I don't know. . .  
  
Used to this kind of stuff?  
  
"Hmmm," Bagu mumbles, stroking his beard with his chin as he studies them (and leaves me out thankfully), "I like your spirit. . .Maybe you could survive, huh?"  
  
"Where is this job?" I ask, not stepping forward. I am not going to draw anymore attention to myself, not if I can help it. Bagu gives me a passing glance before looking back at Seifer.  
  
"It's to the north of here, in a town called Tristram. There's a portal that links the plains to the town, and recently monsters have been pouring out of there as of late," Bagu states, eyeing Seifer carefully, "Say, what's your name, boy?"  
  
At first the gunblader looks a little surprised, but he quickly regains his composure and performs what after several years of watching through Squall's eyes I have come to know as a SeeD salute. It's much like any other military salute, given as a sign of respect or understanding, but it looks somewhat different. The left hand is raised up to the face, the fingers pointed upwards, the palm towards the face. If viewed from the front, half of the person's visage is blocked from view.  
  
"Seifer Almasy,"he answers, a proud smirk on his face. Bagu arches an eyebrow at Seifer's SeeD etiquette, but the village leader soon turns his attention to Quistis, a slight frown on his face.  
  
". . .Quistis Trepe," She too performs a SeeD salute, but Bagu gives her no more than a second glance, before he turns towards me, a scowl of hate and anger on his face, only slightly dimmed by the calm, collected mask he wears.   
  
"Link," I say with pride. Bagu waits a moment before rolling his eyes and waving a hand in lazy circles, motioning for me to continue. I remain silent, refusing to met his gaze. He lowers his hand and arches an eyebrow.  
  
"What? No secondary name?. . .An orphan?" I nod my head discretely and from the corners of my eyes I can see Seifer and Quistis giving me curious looks, "I see. . .Parents couldn't take care of you?"  
  
I can see my companions looks focus on Bagu and become rather dark, but I do my best to put on a ghost of a smile, "My parents were killed in a war," I keep my pride steady and blatant, even as the stares of my companions return to me. They're gonna be asking me about all this later on. I never really told them everything about my previous adventures. . .  
  
"Ah, that would be a reasonable enough explanation," Bagu replies, almost as if he's implying that there are far better and more logical reason. I smile and nod as I am expected to, silently cursing the bastard all the way to Hell and back. Insult my family, will he? Damn bastard. . .  
  
Bagu rises from his chair, eyes studying us and our weapons suspiciously, before giving a low whistle. At the sound, a large Wolfos like dog bounds in from another room. It comes to a halt beside it's master, it's grey and white molted fur heaving with each pant. It's white ears twitch about as it's eyes watch us cautiously.  
  
"This," Bagu begins, kneeling down to scratch the head and neck of the dog, "is Zekes. He's a good watch dog, Elf," Bagu emphasizes that last word with a tinge of distrust, "and you others, you better all watch your step in this town. We don't like strangers here in the Encampment."  
  
"Wow," Seifer mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes and shrugging, "I never would have guessed. . ."  
  
Bagu gives him an angered glare, still petting the dog. Within moments, the man gets up slowly, his knees cracking with age. He heads to the door, motioning for us to follow him, and we do, as does his dog, trotting up beside him. He leads us out on to the streets and towards the gates. On the way, I see a slew of people walking the dusty, dry streets. The smell of commerce filled the air, the scent of things like straw and food wafted through the streets, intermingled with the sounds of shouting and bargaining.  
  
We pass many people (old women in shawls, boys running errands for their parents, and others) who pass us quickly, disappearing back into that giant throng of people once more. I pay little attention, only keeping my eyes open for anyone who stands out - someone that is far different then the others, someone who is a little too attentive - but no one seems to fit that description. No one seems to care about much other than the produce and goods on the market counters, and the occasional reassurance that their purses are still firmly attached to their belts.  
  
It isn't long before we reach the gates of town, which is just a simple gap in the large and somewhat distended stone walls that surround the small - but busy - village. This place is certainly bigger than the last time, and by the looks of it, still growing. Before, there was only the few Rogues who survived Diablo's darkness, and a few stragglers. Now, judging by the leader's apparent hate for woman tells me that the descendants of those brave female warriors are dead, and that their lines have failed. It would have taken a while for all of them and their children to die out though. . .  
  
"Hey," I say suddenly, surprising everyone into stopping and facing me, "Bagu, Can I ask you something?" He nods thoughtfully, almost whether debating if he should or not, "I. . .I've heard that some time ago, something named 'Diablo-" to my friends (I wonder if they would be alright with me calling them that) it is probably easy to notice that I'm feigning ignorance, but Bagu seems to believe me,"-attacked the nearby lands, and I, heh, I must admit that I'm a bit curious. How long ago was that? No one I asked seemed to know."   
  
Bagu watches me carefully as I say my request, and although obviously suspicious, I think I fooled him with my little act, but I can't be sure. This man guards his emotions and feelings like some. . .um, well, like how Squall does.  
  
Or did.  
  
"Hmm, well, no one's really sure if that did happen, but it's estimated that it may have occurred around five, maybe six hundred years ago. Of course, there's no real reason to believe that it ever actually happened."   
  
As the words sink in my chest tightens in shock. About five OR six hundred years ago? Half a millennium? Five centuries? It's been that long? My breath comes in short gasps and my eyes go wide. It couldn't have been THAT long, I mean like, that means Malon's been dead for around five hundred years. Her children's children's children's children's children would be walking Hyrule, if they haven't already been wiped out by something I should have been there to destroy.  
  
Maybe if I hadn't gone looking for my fairy (what was her name again?) then maybe I could have stayed in Hyrule, and maybe have had a nice family to live my life with. Or, if I was not so concerned with saving Termina, maybe I could have left and gone home while the portal was still open. Or, if I was at least quicker. . .  
  
I guess, however, that even if I did manage to get back to Hyrule, there's no guarantee that Malon would have fallen in love with me as I had done so with her. I was (and am) completely infatuated with her, but, I'm not sure that she thought the same. I know that she considered me a friend, but. . .  
  
I don't know how or when, but by the Time I have regained my composure, Quistis and Seifer have somehow managed to distract Bagu so he doesn't notice my shock. Taking several deep breaths, I rejoin the group who somehow just 'happen' to be facing away from me, a fact which I am deeply glad about.  
  
"So, um, shall we get going?" I say, again drawing everyone's attention. My composure is back, although I can't help but become nervous (easily recognized by the way I get a bit fidgety and start scratching the back of my head, a neurotic look on my face) at all the stares. Bagu greets my suggestion with a near insubstantial nod, and we pass through the gates (and pass a guard or two, dressed in some pretty decrepit looking plate mail).   
  
Past the gradually crumbling stone walls are the seemingly endless dead plains that stretch out all the way from this town (and from what I've learned from my eavesdropping, I think it's just called the Encampment) to the very edges of the Monastery. The land, though it may be alive (it definitely doesn't look it) is quite barren, as when I last came here (meaning around five hundred years ago) you could see the monsters crawling over the terrain. Anything from mutilated, decaying zombies to strange little porcupine things (except in exotic colours) that shot spines with great accuracy.  
  
Now, it's just flat and desolate, adding to the whole dead look. The sky is still overcast, the clouds a dark grey that seem to roll across to the horizon without a single break, and I think that will not change.   
  
I wonder how the farmers do with such cloud cover.  
  
"This is the Blood Moor," Bagu says, stretching his hand out and motioning to the land before us. A dead land. . .dead, cold, empty, tired, and desolate.  
  
"Why is it called that? A rather dour name for a place, I think," Quistis comments, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. I can see her eyes examine the landscape, every hill and dell. I can't read the emotion off her face, but I get the vague impression that she's not interested much by it.  
  
"Well, if those rumors about the Diablo war are true, then the reason is simple. This plain, and many others like it, were covered with hordes of monsters. And apparently, many people fought and eventually killed off the monsters, but many of the warriors died on this plain as heroes," normally, I would commend someone on such a speech, if it were not for the monotone, bored voice he was using, "and so this place was christened as the Blood Moor, in the memory of the blood they spilt."  
  
There is a silence, long and somewhat uncomfortable and remains unbroken until the sound of shouting fills the air.  
  
"HEY, GUYS! Wait for me!!" Zell's familiar voice comes from behind us, excited (but what else is new?). We all turn around (even the dog, who is still at his master's side), to face the overly energetic martial arts expert. He runs up to us and stops just short, doubling over as he gasps harshly for breath. He's wearing his usual clothes: long blue denim shorts that go past his knees, a blue, black, and red vest over a white shirt, his black gloves, and his strange shoes. He told me that they are called sneakers. I have no clue why, no matter what Zell does he's a loud kinda guy who seems almost to stomp about as he walks. He could never sneak up on anybody.  
  
His large black tattoo on the left side of his face is sort of shaped like, well, I don't know, a fire. Then again. . .it strangely reminds me of something else. . .but I can't remember what. . .  
  
"Sorry I'm late," he pants, straightening himself out. Within moments, he's shadow boxing with himself, "So, who are you?" he says, referring to Bagu. The Martial Artist, seems disinterested as he doesn't stop his shadow boxing, nor does he even glance at the village leader.  
  
"I am Bagu, the leader of this village," he says scathingly, glaring at Zell. But the Martial Artist takes no notice, and so Bagu sighs and faces us again, "Does any of you know the way to Tristram?"  
  
"I do."  
  
"Good. Go there, and stop the monsters. When you come back, I'll pay you for your services in full."  
  
"No doing," I say, drawing everyone's (even Zell's) attention to me, "Twenty percent up front. No less." Bagu seems slightly surprised by my negotiations, while Quistis and Seifer just watch me warily. Zell doesn't seem to understand what's going on.  
  
"Five percent."  
  
"Twenty or we're not doing it."  
  
". . .I suppose," Bagu replies, a tinge of hate in his voice, "What does it matter to me if you never come back?" The man reaches for the purse on his belt, pulling open the draw string and shoving a hand in there. After a few moments of clinking, Bagu's hand reappears with a handful of coins, which he hands to me. I take the gold pieces and begin counting them. By the Time I'm done, I've counted at least a thousand gold. Of course, gold pieces are worth more than one dollar. Gold is the highest money unit, followed by silver, then nickel, then copper and so on. Just like the rupee system in Hyrule.  
  
"Thanks," I say, giving the money to Quistis (I don't have any way to carry it right now). The others and I start walking away, leaving Bagu and his dog behind, when I suddenly remember something. I turn right around and run back up to him.  
  
"Hey, one last thing, before I forget. I've, uh, heard of this treasure in the area somewhere. It's a bright blue ocarina, apparently had something to do with the Diablo war, and I'm quite interested in trying to find it. I really like a challenge, you know, and from what I hear this thing is guarded greatly due to it's magical power," I do my best to emphasize that last bit, and I find myself having to force back a smile as Bagu's face takes on a greedy grin, "so, do you know anything about it?"  
  
"Hmm, well," he's trying to hide his thoughts but it's already too late, I know he wants the Ocarina, "I've heard of it, yet another legend, but if you want to go after it, sure, go ahead, I'll tell you where. On one condition though, if you do find it, bring it back and show it to me. I must say, I'm actually quite interested myself."   
  
I nod, and watch as a sly grin crosses his features, "Great. It's actually said to be hidden where you're headed, somewhere 'in the bowels of that accursed city, Tristram', if I allowed to quote the scriptures." I find myself with a small smile on my face, as I move forward to shake his hand and complete the rather unattached business feel of this fake (well, fake on my half) conversation. I take a step forward and extend my hand when suddenly Zekes snarls at me and bristles up. He takes a step back, his teeth bared as he growls at me. Needless to say I take a step or two back on my own out of surprise.  
  
"Wow," I murmur, "protective dog you have there." I look back up at Bagu to see him giving the dog a funny look, before I shake my head and walk back towards the others. As I near Seifer and Quistis, I can hear the dog quiet down.   
  
"You okay?" Quistis asks.  
  
"Yeah fine," I answer, scratching the back of my head (my own little nervous habit), "The Ocarina is in Tristram, so the sooner we leave, the sooner we get there, and the sooner we can help Squall. We kill the monsters, and we won't even have a reason to come back for the rest of the money. We can just leave after that."  
  
"Here," Zell suddenly interrupts, running up in between me and Quistis, "Give me the money and I'll go get some supplies. I'll catch up with ya later, if you tell me where ya're going, like which way."  
  
I point to the rod heading a bit east, "You'll find us on that," I say, and Zell looks at if for a second before running off and into town. With his speed, it shouldn't take him long to catch up with us again.  
  
~*~  
  
"You're looking better Link," Quistis says assessing my not so caved in stomach. I have to agree with her, I may not yet quite at a healthy weight, but I'm not quite as skinny. Quistis was right before when a while back she had said that once I got something into my stomach I would be hungry. I'm almost constantly feeling famished, no matter how much I eat. This, of course, pleases Quistis who's still playing the game of mother hen. I'm not sure whether Malon was right when she made that whole mention of Quistis liking me, but the woman does seem slightly more open and caring around me than she does around the others.   
  
Maybe it's just my imagination.  
  
"Yeah, you don't look like a walking corpse anymore, that's for sure," Seifer states through a mouth full of food. I'm already done my second helping while they are still working on their first. Quistis is allowing me to have a second helping while everyone else has to have a slightly rationed amount (to Zell's dismay) due to the fact that I still need as much as I can get.  
  
"Yep, thanks to me getting all those supplies!" Zell had gone to get some supplies, the keyword being SOME. He had come back with a thousand gold worth of supplies all in one large that he had hoisted over his shoulder. At first, Quistis had flipped, saying that we may have needed that money, but I stepped in and told her that there wasn't anything else we could really do with it, other than buy supplies. And besides, if all went well we wouldn't be returning to the town. She reluctantly agreed, however, it has since become Zell's job to carry around the large bag of goods, despite his whining about how heavy it is.  
  
"So, um, Link?" Quistis begins, I and I stop eating for a moment to look at her, "Is what that man said true? Five hundred years?"  
  
I bristle up at the comment. Five hundred years. "Yeah, it's probably right." All that time, and here I am, still alive. I should be dead, if not because of my age, then just because of my failures. I know that something's wrong with Hyrule. I may no longer have my Triforce, but I still have a bit of a connection to the land. I can feel that there's something wrong with it, and that had I been there. . .maybe I could have done something. . .  
  
I stare down at my plate for a moment, before pushing it aside. I've suddenly lost my appetite.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Sorry about the terrible shortness (and crappyness) of this chapter, it's just that if I had continued, then it would have been outrageously long. So, don't worry, the next chapty will be out before too long. And sorry bout the delay, I was gone for a few days, but now I'm back!!! ^-^  
  
*silence, as no one cares*  
  
Um, also, I'm thinking of revamping some of the last few chapters a little. Nothing serious, just gonna make them a bit better (same basic plot though). And the next time I start slacking off like that, someone just give me a review saying so, I'm I'll fix my act.  
  
Okay, this is how it's gonna work for the name change of the chapters. As some of you may know, I had a story called Changes. I deleted it, and made it a complete retelling of OOT and MM that goes under the name Destiny of A Boy. It's a prelude to this, but its not like you have to read it. I'm changing it's name to Act I : Destiny of A Boy, and this story, Broken Dreams, is going to be named Act II : Trial of a Man.  
  
Btw, if changing the name of a story deletes all the previous reviews, can someone tell me? I don't want to lose the reviews!!  
  
Action in the next chapty!!   
  
As yes a plug: My fanfiction pic of the week is Legend of Zelda: The Hero of Time, by Shawshank. A must read, especially for Link fans. You will not be disappointed, I guarantee it! ~_^  
  
I think thats it, so please, R+R!! 


	14. Chapter XIII Monster's Den Part I

Broken Dreams  
  
Chapter XIII - Monster's Den part I  
  
~*~   
  
After two days of traveling, we finally stand at the circle of stones that forms the gateway to Tristram. The Cairn stones, five in total, form a sizable circle, and in the center, still remaining from my last visit through these lands, sits a large blue portal. It's a gap in the fabric of reality, symbolized by a large six foot blue circle that floats a few inches off the ground. The vortex itself is surrounded by a white corona of bright light, and within it is filled with a writhing, flowing azure blue. It reminds me of the ocean, and the waves and the tides.  
  
The portal makes no sound, just floats there, giving off the distinct impression that it is waiting. I am about to move forward and enter the vortex, as I have done so many Times before, but I stop to watch as Zell starts his antics. While the other two are marginally doubtful of the vortex, they seem content to trust my judgment on the matter. The Martial Artist, however, starts walking around it carefully (it almost looks like he's trying to stalk the thing), approaching it from the side.   
  
I stand back and suppress a chuckle as he nears the side, his eyes wide with curiosity and contemplation.  
  
I know what he's seeing. The first Time I saw a portal like this, I did much the same thing. He'll approach it from the side, and at just the right angle, the vortex will completely disappear. Telling by his expression right now he's reached that viewpoint. Once he comes around to the back again he'll be able to see it once more. His expression again betrays his emotions, and he continues to look and admire (with a hint of surprise on his face). Finally, as Zell still studies the rift in reality before him, Seifer sighs, tapping the dull back edge of his gunblade against his left shoulder.  
  
He's lucky that gunblades tend to be one sided.  
  
"Will you hurry up, Chicken Wuss?" the Gunblader hisses loud enough for all of us to hear. Chicken Wuss is Zell's 'nickname' (an insult, really), inspired by the large spikes at the front of his hairline that seem to defy gravity entirely and stick straight upwards. Seifer originally came up with it during the SeeD test in which Zell passed, while the Gunblader, as usual, failed (due to his impatience and disobedience).   
  
That was also the same test that Squall graduated from.  
  
The insult gains the desired (or so I assume) effect as Zell whirls about to face Seifer, anger evident on his face. With some hesitation, the Martial Artist jogs back over to the 'front' of the portal, shooting only a few glares in Seifer's direction. With those strange shoes of his (sneakers, he calls them), he comes thumping over towards the Instructor, the anger quickly fading from his face. He moves behind me, as did the others earlier, leaving me in the very front.  
  
So I will be the first through the vortex. . .  
  
I walk up calmly to the blue, writhing pool floating above the ground, stopping just inches away from it's pristine surface. I've always been careful around these things, it was a similar (yet invisible, or at least to my eyes) to the one that took me away from my home in the first place. The next one, the portal that lead me to this world was visible, and much like this one (but a bit bigger). And after coming to this Hellhole, I've kinda grown wary of these things.  
  
Stretching out an arm, I allow my limb to penetrate the riff in Time and Space. My hand disappears into the gateway, and my arm feels cold and strangely unattached from my body. I feel almost as if my limb is freezing, or that there is a frigid wind blowing gently over it.  
  
Knowing that things at least seem normal, I pull out my arm, take a step backwards, before I jump into and through the vortex. My body is at once eclipsed with that freezing sensation, reminding me of the few Times in my life I have spent wandering through blizzards. I lose all sense of my orientations, no longer remembering which way is up or down. For all I know, I could be twisting around in the sapphire abyss I currently inhabit.   
  
After what feels like an eternity (moments?) sight comes back to me and I suddenly drop straight down, due to the wonderful force of gravity, and I end up slamming my ass hard on the ground. Painfully.  
  
"For the love of Nayru," I mumble, "Why do those things always have to drop people?"  
  
Before I can start wondering if it's only me that the portals do that to, a heavy weight falls on my back, pushing my face down into the dirt with a thud. Even though my sight is blocked, the two other thumps that soon follow lead me to believe that I know what - or who - made the noise.  
  
"Get oof me!" I shout, the clarity and sound of my voice blocked partially by the heavy body of my companion sitting on my upper back.   
  
"Oops!" the easy to recognize voice of Zell exclaims as he leaps off my body, allowing me to push myself off the ground, "I didn't mean to. . ." As I brush the dirt and loose grass from my face, I can hear the groans of Seifer and Quistis as they rub their sore behinds and backs, massaging out the pain of the harsh landing. I rub the feeling back into my face and neck, also stretching my shoulders in hopes that they'll still work. I'm lucky that Zell didn't land on the sheath of my sword, otherwise I'd have his weight pushing down on the steel of my weapon and into my back.  
  
"It's okay, you couldn't control how you landed," I mumble, stumbling slightly to my feet. After a few stretches, my back feels useable again and I walk over to the others, who are now studying the area as they wait for me. I take a look around as well, ensnaring an image for me to store in my memory.   
  
It's much the same as how I remember it; the grass a dead, choked grey green, as it was out in the fields on the other side of the portal. There's the stone walls and buildings, all deteriorating due to age and a lack of repairs. As we walk closer, the appearance of the scorched ground becomes more visible, and it is easy for anyone to see that this village was almost completely razed by a large fire. . .  
  
////  
  
"Amplisa!! Get away from there!" I shout at the lithe figure a ways ahead of me, the girl who is shooting her opponents one by one, and then as another draws near to strike she deftly eludes the incoming blow as if it were all some game. To her, I suppose it is. Some dance, some form of amusement for her and her only, as she is the only person I have ever known to treat battle as such a. . .a joyful festivity.  
  
The crackle of wood draws my attention back to the reason I called her earlier. Now she's looking at me, the ever present smile on her face, and I point at the burning beam above her. Somehow, with some unknown luck, she realizes without having to pause and look, and she jumps to the side as a large wooden beam that was burnt right through lands heavily beside her, crushing two Fallen that were unfortunate enough (depends how you look at it) to choose that moment to attack. Their bodies go limp and flat under that heavy weight but Amplisa is alright but she's already back to shooting-  
  
::Behind you!::  
  
How my little delusions now what's going on behind me before I do is a question that will have to wait for another day as I turn about and immediately (instinctually?) slice into the encroaching Fallen, his sabre dropped weakly as my blade wedges deeply into the base of it's skull. I wretch the weapon out, and the vile creature drops to the burnt ground, twitching slightly. I have no Time to watch it's death throes, as I spot a Night Clan preparing to swing it's large scythe down on my head. It's not hard to dodge the impending attack, I simply step to the side and watch the razor sharp (yet notched) edge breeze past my face.  
  
This is gonna be a long night. . .  
  
The sounds of our battle is lost within the roar of a mighty flame. . .  
  
\\\\  
  
. . .The black embers and the piles of many skeletons (some holding a human-like resemblance, some obviously monster) are all that are left of that battle, over five hundred years ago. . .  
  
Suddenly, I feel so old. . .  
  
"Hey, Link!" Seifer shouts at me, from a few feet ahead, "Snap out of it!" I break from my thoughts and my attention focuses instantly upon him. "Hey, we don't want ya zoning off, now do we? Come over here and help us find these damn monsters!" I jog over to them, cursing beneath my breath, but I don't complain as I take the lead again and head deeper into the town square.  
  
I wonder why nobody came here and tried to clean this place up? Make it inhabitable again?  
  
"Because of the monsters, you fool!"   
  
I sigh inwardly; it looks as if I might be getting into yet another argument with Malon, silently of course. At first I wonder if I should just wish her away - I've done it so many Times before (hard as it may be, but I can just ignore her) - but I guess having a discussion with her is really no different than with having one with myself, so I let it go.  
  
[So, if it was because of the monsters, then why didn't they just clear them out?] I throw my thoughts at her, as if that makes a difference. She can hear me whether I'm thinking or speaking or anything, [It wouldn't take them five hundred years to clean them out.]  
  
"You still can't get over that? Can you?" Malon's voice says from somewhere behind me. I think I'm rather glad at Times like this that my companions can no longer hear my thoughts like they could when I was still separated from my body. Of course, with that freedom also come the chains that are this illusionary Malon.  
  
[What? 'Get over' the fact that I'm probably - no, surely - the oldest Hylain who has ever lived and has only done so with the 'help' of an Arch Angel who was afraid I would go crazy? That you - the real you - has been dead for around five hundred years? That if I was not so. . .so incompetent I may have been able to help Hyrule, and trust me, I've got a sneaking suspicion that it NEEDED help! Get over it, you say? How can I? I've failed the land. . .the people. . .the woman I loved!. . .Of course, you would know nothing of that, you-]  
  
"You're just feeling sorry for yourself, that's all," she interrupts from somewhere behind me, but I can't turn around lest I draw suspicion to myself, "Do you really think that you had it that much worse than everyone else? What about me, huh? I was beaten by Ingo, I suffered under his iron hand. I watched him beat the horses day in and day out, while he kicked my father out of the ranch and took it over like he was some dictator, and that's only what I've told you. What about that lovely woman, the Princess Zelda? She was awake for those seven years you were asleep. She must have seen horrors beyond either of our imaginations, and yet you dare to say that YOU'VE had it so hard? A selfish brat, that's all you are and ever were." Her presence disappears from my mind and I know that she's done for now.  
  
Is she right? I mean, I, at the age of ten, was told to go and get the three Spiritual Stones, and like some dog, I went. Yes, I complained a little, I was ten, and back then I had. . .that fairy (why can't I remember her name?) to straighten me out if I started acting foolishly. Then I became an adult after seven years of long sleep (who says wakefulness is worse than the awakening from the slumber?) and I was told that the only way I could save Hyrule from my mistake of accidentally letting Gannondorf into the Sacred Realm was by awakening the sages, I decided that I had to do it. I wouldn't let myself not do it. Then, of course, came the climatic showdown with Gannondorf himself, and my choice to turn back Time. The adventures through Termina, everyday watching as I helped some people, while I left others to wallow in their own sorrows. Then, finally, the trip through Sanctuary and all the way to Hell and back. To be sealed in a chamber in the same way that the Heavens decided to seal away the Prime Evils, supposedly the vilest things to ever walk the Earth (and I don't think I'll argue about that). And in the meantime, I've been seeing hallucinations of my dead girlfriend and I've also had the knowledge that the land I fought so hard to protect was (and may still be) in trouble and there's nothing I can do about it.  
  
Is she right? Am I being too self centered? Maybe I'm just being selfish, and not looking at what everyone had to go through. . .  
  
"Hey, man?" I look up to see Zell facing me, one hand on my shoulder, "Are you alright? You've been, like, zonked out for a little there." I look into his eyes to see genuine concern, and an underlying straightforwardness there, reminding me of why we're here. I nod.  
  
"Sorry, I kinda. . .Got lost in my memories of this place," I lie slightly, it's almost the truth, "it's been a while, but a lot of this is as how I left it. Just a sudden rush, you know?" and the truth can hurt.  
  
"Whatever, let's just get moving," Seifer states, stepping in front of me so we can look each other in the face, "Let's just find the monsters - and that instrument thingy - and get out of here." He gives me a glare before turning around and walking around in the area. My guess is he's searching for some of these 'monsters' that are supposed to be around here, but there don't seem to be any in plain sight. . .  
  
We're now in the town square which is much the same as how I left it: the burnt buildings, dead bodies everywhere. But there's no signs of anything wrong, or different, except the gibbet that held Deckard Cain is completely missing, ripped right out of the ground leaving a large ragged hole, and the well. . .  
  
The well itself seems almost to have been blown apart, as there is now only a gaping hole into the black of the underground, surrounded by small little piles of rubble. There almost appears to be a crude stairway into the darkness, and rough cave like walls. There's an awful stench wafting from the depths, and I now think I might have an idea where our monster problem may lay. . .  
  
"Guys?" I begin, pointing at the well, or what's left of it, "I think that's where we go. It definitely smells of monster. . ."  
  
Quistis walks over to me, about five or six feet from the well, "It reeks alright, but of what I do not know. . .You know the monsters of this area best, do you think that's our destination?"  
  
I stare at the hole in the ground, hoping for some better hint at where to go. If there's nothing there that will tell me whether or not, for sure, that it is the monster's den, then I'm going to to take another look around. I do not want to go on a wild goose chase into some dark hole only to find that the monsters are some where else. . .but then again, Tristram is a town area that is closed off on three sides by dying forests and on the fourth side by a river. . .Where else could the monsters be? It's a small town.  
  
I shrug and start taking a step forwards, but Quistis lays a hand on my shoulder and jerks me back before I can get very far. I spin about to face her, unable to keep the impatience and anger off my face.  
  
"WHAT? I though you guys wanted to get on with this!"   
  
"Well, yes, I most certainly do," the instructor begins, then glances briefly towards her comrades, "and they probably wish the same thing as well, but we have one slight problem." I look at her, curiosity peaked, an eyebrow arched, "I'm quite sure that you don't glow in the dark anymore, so what now? How are we supposed to see our way down there?"  
  
"I was thinking that you could cast that fire spell of yours again," her gaze meets mine and answers my unspoken question, but I ask it anyway, "Wait wait, you CAN cast that fire spell and hold it, right?"  
  
"I'm afraid. . .not. . .I could use it to light a torch but-"  
  
"-But we don't have a torch!" I turn away from her so fast that it could almost be called violently, "Damnit damnit, Farore, damnit!"  
  
"Whoa, calm down," Seifer says, approaching me from behind, "What's your problem anyway? Do you like, have PMS or something?"  
  
I look over my shoulder and arch my eyebrow, "What's PMS?"  
  
"It's-"   
  
"Never mind that for now," Quistis interrupts Zell, the authority again so evident in her voice causes me to turn around completely, "May I suggest that maybe we could find something to use as a torch? Or do you have something else we can do?" She says, almost suggestively. I am about to reply when Seifer speaks up:  
  
"Yeah, don't you Elves have magic and stuff?"   
  
"I. . .used to have magic. . ." my voice fades as I struggle for a understandable way to put my thoughts into words.  
  
"Used to?" Zell asks, cocking his head slightly, and I nod slowly.  
  
"Yes. . .but I. . .lost-" I reply, my voice wracked with confusion and uncertainty, "-most of it. . .I guess, I'm not quite sure, to tell the truth. . .but I can't seem to do most of it anymore. . ."  
  
"What kind of spells can you cast?" Quistis asks me, crossing her arms and shifting her weight.  
  
"Nothing as fancy as the magic you guys can cast. I can't make firestorms or call blizzards or any of that. I can only do much simpler spells."  
  
"Like what?" the Instructor prods, arching an eyebrow, slight amusement on her face.  
  
"I'll try," I mumble, quickly scanning the ground around me. I know that the others are watching me curiously, but I do my best to ignore them. Once my scan of the immediate area proves fruitless, I move over to the base of some of the buildings, shifting through the piles of skeletons. I can hear the others' whispered questions, such as; 'What's he doing?' and 'Is he crazy?', but I continue on and focus on what I am doing.   
  
I remember as a kid hating the sight (and for some strange, inexplicable reason also enjoying) the sight of bones, and the thought of touching such things would run chills up my spine. Now, it's not so bad, I can do it; I may not enjoy it, but I can do it without hardly noticing.  
  
Eventually, my hands come across the bones of a young female, the reason for her death simple: a well aimed sword attack to the skull, fracturing it and splintering the brow of the lady.  
  
Heh, 'lady'? I remember this one. . .It's no human female, or at least, it no longer is. When Amplisa and I came across this. . .thing. . .it was already a corrupted Rogue. Much like their not-so-evil sisters, the corrupted Rogues were actually normal people (woman mostly, I don't think I ever came across a male) who were tainted by Andariel's evil magic.  
  
I remember this one well; she almost killed me a few Times. I always found the archers so much harder to take ou-  
  
"Isn't it intriguing that you remember a mindless, soulless enemy that you knew for less than a few minutes, but not the name of your Guardian Fairy who stayed with you for so long and helped you find your way through so much?" Malon's voice comes to my ears, as if from a distance on a breeze, and I stop and look closely at the damaged skull I hold in my hands, my brow knotting in a frown.  
  
['Through so much?' I thought that only a short Time ago you were saying that what I went through was nothing, and yet here you are saying so much? A bit hypocritical, aren't we?] I've stopped rummaging through for a moment, but then I'm right back at it, still looking, there's gotta be one around her somewhere. . .  
  
"Hypocritical, hm? Pretty big words for such a stupid boy. . .But no, I never said you went through nothing, I just said that you went through so little compared to everyone else. . .They were all forced to live or die under Gannondorf's reign, you know? You slept. . . You know nothing of what they had to live through."  
  
[And I never will,] I think to Malon, who, though I cannot see her, I can feel her presence in my mind vanish again. With her dismissed (I'm surprised she left so easily, but hey, she's got a mind of her own more often than not), I continue my search more vigorously, shifting through dead weight until my hand finally comes across something cold and smooth and carved upon.   
  
And I pull my hand from the mess to see it holding a bow. How it is still so whole. . .almost as if new. . .is beyond my comprehension, it should have long ago discomposed. Not that I'm complaining though.  
  
The shaft of the bow is a beige brown, made from some hard but flexible wood (and I don't know my trees so I'm not going to even bother guessing), and even the bowstring looks useable, though it may need to be replaced sometime in the near future. I smile before putting the bow off to the side - away from the mess - and I root around in the skeletal mess once more, and this Time I quickly find what it is I am looking for: a nice, large quiver, with most of the arrows still in it. Somehow, this hasn't decayed much either (I must compliment whoever made these weapons, they knew what they were doing) and it even has the strap I need to keep it to my back.  
  
I stand up quickly, and I toss the strap around my back, having the quiver at an opposite angle to that of the sheath for my sword. I adjust the strap so that it's nice and tight, before picking up the bow and walking back towards the others, "Sorry about that, but like I was saying, I'll try and hopefully I can still do some of these spells."  
  
"What? You'll try? Did you forget or something?" Seifer asks as I near him and the others. He's got a suspicious look to his face, while Zell still stands as he did before, but now his head is no longer cocked anymore. Quistis is still waiting with her arms crossed and her weight still shifted, but she no longer has that vague amusement in her eyes, now she appears much more curious.  
  
"Well, no, I didn't forget," I say, stopping about ten feet away from them, "I just can't seem to use the spells. I remember them perfectly, but. . .well, nothing happens. Watch," with a speed that cause the three of them to jerk back in surprise, I reach up to my quiver and swiftly pulling out an arrow, before placing it to the bow and drawing back the string. I pause there, waiting for the others to understand what I am doing (it doesn't take them long) and once they realize that I'm not going to shoot them, I search for an actual target.  
  
All I can even see that will suit my purposes is a pile of broken rubble off to my right, and so, I take aim. . .  
  
"What's this got to do with magic?" Seifer asks, "It doesn't take magic to fire an arrow."  
  
"No, you're right," I say, not taking my eye off my target. I reach deep inside myself, searching for that well hidden power, that form of magic that like all of my other spells has slowly begun to weaken, to the point where I'm afraid how useless some of them have become. Even as I search, the knowledge, the ability to create an arrow of light has already failed me. I remember how, but I just can't call up the spell. Same with Ice Arrows, and I'm not sure about that spell that Amplisa taught me. . .so I do the only other one, "But it does take magic to do this!"  
  
There's the satisfying snap of the bowstring cutting through the air (maybe the string is in better condition than I thought), and the arrow whizzes towards it's target. It looks like I have failed my spell, but halfway to it's target I can feel something within me click, and the arrow bursts into flame before imbedding itself into the pile of rubble, and lighting the dry wood there into a raging bonfire of sorts. I look back at the others, a slight grin on my face.  
  
"Nice," Seifer says, standing about rather casually, though surprise is easy to spot on his face. Quistis hasn't moved, but again as with Seifer, it's obvious to see that she wasn't expecting that. Zell, unlike his companions, looks completely dumbstruck.  
  
"I used to be able to create different magic arrows as well, but like I said before, I just can't seem to do it anymore," I sigh, looking down at the bow in my hands. I run my fingers over it slowly, treasuring the way I can feel the carvings in the wood. The little indents and the tiny hills and valleys in the very shaft of the weapon I hold so tightly.  
  
And to think, not that long ago, I couldn't feel anything.  
  
"Are there other spells you can cast?" Quistis asks, causing me to look up at her, "A flaming arrow will not be of too much use."  
  
I nod, "Yes, but I'm not sure if they work anymore. . .but I'll give it a shot." I concentrate, closing my eyes as I again search for that inner 'switch'. First, I search for the warmth of Nayru's Love. . .but it's no where to be found. I change direction (it's really odd, almost 'navigating' my head like this) and look for the comforting light of Farore's Wind, a much more difficult spell to cast, as it allows me to actually teleport for a short distance. . .but even as I search, I know it too is blocked from me. . .or me from it?  
  
I sigh again (I seem to do that a lot, now that I think of it). It looks like I'm going to have to use a destructive spell for my demonstration.  
  
I focus all my will to the small area of air above my now somewhat outstretched hand, eyes still closed as I try to bring the very air there alight with my will alone. . .I remember when that Great Fairy on Death Mountain (was it the Great Fairy of Power?) taught me how to use magic. It was a trying thing (having some seemingly demented giant Fairy telling me how to release something 'locked' within my mind was a really odd experience) and it took a long Time for me to see even the slightest results, but I became better with practice. . .And now, with enough effort running throughout my body that I can feel a bead of sweat roll down my face, it sort of feels like I'm starting over.  
  
I feel something click, just as I did with the Fire Arrow, and I open my eyes to see a little ball of orangish reddish light glowing above my hands. Almost as if the outer layer of it is nothing but a flame swirling upon itself, I can see the waves of a flickering fire dance around in the tiny orb. I focus on it again (this Time keeping my eyes open), trying to expand the sphere into something a little bigger, but to no avail. . .This is as big as it's gonna get.  
  
"Woo, impressive!" Seifer says somewhat sarcastically, clapping his hands together, "I've never seen such a display of raw, destructive power!" He begins laughing but is soon cut short as Quistis gives him a good elbow to the ribs. His clapping stops as well as he reaches down to put pressure on his ribs.  
  
"I used to be able to make it a lot larger," at the unspoken question that I can see on their faces I continue, "Big enough that it would surround me in a dome-like wall of fire that would then expand large enough to hold several more people." There's a general nod at that, and then a bout of silence lands on our little group. . .Unbroken until finally I am forced to release the small ball of flame hovering above my outstretched palm, with a hiss of a curse word.  
  
"What happened? Burn yourself?" Seifer mocks, and I vaguely wonder why he's so different today. Normally, it's like that he can stand being around me, although he'll still throw the occasional insult at me, but it's all in good humor. Today, however, I can sense that he's a bit different in attitude. . .  
  
. . .Maybe he has that 'PMS' thing. . .Whatever it is. . .  
  
"No, I just couldn't hold it any longer. Give me a moment, and I'll cast it again," I say, releasing a breath of air before I sink to the ground and just sit there. My forehead is soaked with sweat from the effort of using such a simple - and weaker than what it should be - spell. My breath is a little bit faster than it should be, and I find myself wishing for a bit of rest.  
  
"Hmm, you don't look too good," Quistis states, starting up with that motherly tone again. I feels like it's just about all I can do to look up at her, "Maybe it's time for lunch. . ."  
  
At this I begin to argue, but Zell's cheering blocks out what I was going to say, giving me Time to stop and think.  
  
Ah, what the Hell? Why not, I'm a bit hungry anyway.  
  
~*~   
  
An hour later, we're ready to set off again. Link is finally done eating, after three helpings to our one. Now he's just staring at the ground while he sits, looking lost (and strangely sorrowful) in his thoughts. I watch him for a moment before a sudden grunt from somewhere behind me makes me stop and look back, my hand going down to my whip, the Save the Queen.  
  
I'm glad to see that it's only Seifer and Zell sparing. After Link's description of there being so many monsters once covering these areas, and seeing things such as the piles of skeletons that are so common in this town, it's not surprising to say that I believe him. And, I'm also a little wary.  
  
Watching the two SeeD's (it's still so hard for me to think of Seifer as a SeeD) spar, I have to keep myself from laughing as I see their antics. Zell, being his usual light footed self, is 'dancing' around Seifer, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Seifer, on the other hand, just follows Zell's progress, as the Martial Artist throws the occasional feint at the Gunblader. Eventually, Zell makes a real attack, but before he can even come close Seifer gets frustrated and sighs, picking Zell up and off the ground by his collar. Desperate to keep mycomposure, I look back at Link.  
  
He hasn't moved at all, not in the slightest. It reminds me. . .Sometimes, when we (me or the others) talk to him, he'll answer, but almost zone out during the conversation. . .Like he's handling two conversations at once. . .  
  
I wonder. . .  
  
His gaze rises from the ground, slowly (and almost dramatically) to meet mine. I take this opportunity to look at and study him yet again. He's a bit small compared to Squall or Irvine or Seifer, but he's got a fairly good build. Some are built for speed, some are built for power, but it looks like he would be fairly good with both. His blonde hair falls in front of his face, almost messily, and that new bow of his is resting around his body, almost as the straps for his equipment do. It's at an angle opposite to his sword, resting along side his quiver. He's a lot healthier than before, he's no longer as skinny as a toothpick, but he's still underweight. We only freed him, what? A week or so ago, and that's not nearly enough time to regain forty pounds. But, nevertheless, he is looking better.  
  
When we first had the chance to ask him (after he woke up), one of the first things we asked him about was the many scars that covered many parts of his body. There are many, on his back and his arms, his chest has a few (especially that one around where his wound from where the soulstone was). There's that one, ridiculously long one that curves around his neck (it kind of reminds me of Squalls. His never fully healed either), and there's another large one in his right side. It looks like a stab wound from a sword, but he was reluctant to be specific, saying that he couldn't remember all of them.  
  
I admire the way his sleek body is; his face is just, well, so. . .sleek. His face is a little narrower than the face of a human, giving him quite an exotic look. His eyes also have that same look, as they are slightly slanted. Not so heavily oblique as Estharian eyes, but enough that they still had that foreign look. It gives him an air of mysteriousness.  
  
His eyes are deep pools of a haunted shade of blue that I have never seen before, thoughtful and calm. Like the calm before the storm. I can see it, in his eyes; he's traveled a long ways, and fought many dangers just to get this far. Greed and envy are almost non existent in his eyes, but anger and hate are apparently no strangers to him. I can see it there, in his eyes. He's felt so much already, and yet, it's like he's. . .incomplete. Empty. Cold and alone with no where left to run. Like a caged animal. . .but not now. It's there, that coldness, but it's not as predominate right now. He can and will survive, no simple trial will destroy him. He is somehow. . .so different than anyone else I have ever seen before. . .  
  
But he's so cold. . .  
  
There's a hunger there, not for food nor is it from sexual urges, but from something totally different. For what? I don't even think he knows - realizes - at least, not yet. It's dark and evasive, and it only flits across his eyes at sparse moments, but it clouds those pools of blue as if it owns them. It doesn't stay long, that dark, black look, but I know it will return.  
  
While I'm studying his eyes, they suddenly dart from looking at me to looking at the two idiots 'sparing'. A small smile crosses his thin lips, and suddenly he looks back at me.  
  
"I think it's time to go," he says, standing up and stretching slightly. I join him, before looking back at the others.  
  
"Hey! It's time to go!" I shout (an odd experience for me, seeing as I almost never ever shout). They look over at me, before Seifer drops Zell back down on to the ground, and then they both come running (well, Zell's running, Seifer's just walking slowly).  
  
"Ready?" Zell shouts, out of breath. Both me and Link nod, and Zell jumps into the air, silently cheering.  
  
Sometimes I don't understand that boy. . .  
  
We all walk towards the hole in the ground (which apparently used to be a well) with Link leading the way, and just before he is about to step down into the black abyss he turns around and says "I'm gonna go down first, and when I reach level ground, I'll use that fire spell again. Once you guys see that come on, follow me down, and keep an eye on the light."   
  
"Yeah, yeah, fine. Whatever. Let's just move along, huh?" Seifer says from behind me, but I don't look back. I watch as Link nods (he doesn't turn around either) before descending into the black pit. . .  
  
He better be careful. . .  
  
~*~  
  
Okay, I think this would be a good Time for me to be careful; I'm descending into the depths of a well, and one wrong step in the blackness could cost me my life.  
  
I'm surprised that the other's haven't asked me why I haven't cast Din's Fire again. Well, the reason I haven't is simple: I don't want to waste all my energy summoning it now, just for a brief walk down some stairs. Once I'm at the bottom, or at least on a flat section of ground, then I will use the spell again. Because then, I will need to see whether or not the path branches off and which way to go.   
  
My feet meet each step carefully, as I don't want to fall and break my neck (a severe possibility). Of course, it's just my luck that the stairs are wet and slippery. If there's even just one small piece of rubble on these stairs. . .  
  
After several agonizingly long minutes, I stumble because rather than more stairs, I am unexpectedly finding myself on flat ground. I fall to my knees (I can't see worth shit) and my hands land in a decidedly big puddle of. . .  
  
I lean forward and take a brief sniff.  
  
Of simple well water. I was worried there for a moment, knowing this crazy world, it wouldn't have been much of a surprise for this place to be swimming in blood.  
  
"Only water," I repeat to myself in the heavy silence that covers me. I can't hear (and when I look behind me, I realize that I can't see either) the entrance to the well. Oh, whatever. It doesn't matter right now.  
  
I again stretch out my palm and focus on the air, trying to create a small orb of fire above it once more. It takes a moment (a very long, hard moment) before it sparks to life and lights up the room in a dim orangey glow. Not all that bright, but good enough to see.  
  
Hm, it was easier that Time. . .Maybe with practice. . .?  
  
This isn't the Time for wondering, so instead I study the room around me briefly. There's the stairs on the right hand side of the room, stone stairs that lead up to the exit. The stairs connect with the wall as they travel upwards. I sit at the foot of the steps, one of my hands still in the puddle (the only puddle in the room, I notice). The rest of the room is simply a square area, with only one other way to go. A large doorway in the wall opposite to the stairs is the only option I have.  
  
The scuffle of boots alerts me to the others, who by the sounds of it are coming down the steps now. I take a brief glance - yes, here they come - they're being careful (good for them) but they're coming awfully slowly.  
  
After a minute or two longer, they are beside me, and I finally realize that I'm still in the puddle (or, at least, my hand is). I stand up and shake off as much water as I can from my hand, wiping off the remaining liquid off on my pants. Together, as a group, we make an unspoken agreement to go through the door, and off into the unknown.  
  
The next hall uses stone bricks as the walling and the flooring (and oh, look, they used it for the ceiling as well), just like the last room. It's pretty shoddily done, there are cracks in between the bricks, and dirt and mud are seeping through. There's an awful stench that smells like monsters to me. . .but I can't tell what kind (I'm not some Goddess damned bloodhound). Our footsteps (hehe! I've got footsteps again!) echo in the dark cavernous hall like the ominous sound of enemies following. To make matters worse, Zell seems to have this annoying habit of dragging his feet, creating the most caustic (to my mind at least) sound in creation. That, when combined with the clicking of Quistis' heels on the hard floor creates a tune to which I could go mad.   
  
Grinding my teeth in frustration, I continue to lead our little party, glancing over my shoulder once in a while to make sure we haven't lost someone.   
  
At the end of that hall, is a right corner, and yet another hall (surprisingly with the same decor). We trudge down this new corridor, slowly and without any form of conversation whatsoever. I don't know about the others, but I find myself taking in every detail of each new hallway. Like, in this one, there is a bit more water than in the last two, as the entire floor is covered with a slight layer of liquid. It reeks of something akin to bile (although not very strongly) but that isn't the predominate smell of these caverns. . .or whatever this place is.  
  
A well, I suppose.   
  
Kinda reminds me of the well in Kakariko. . .  
  
After another few moments of walking I can't help but release a shuddering breath. Keeping up this light like this is slowly (why so much more slowly than before?) draining my energy. At this rate, I won't be able to keep it up for much longer. . .I roll my shoulders, doing my best not to let the light go out while I try to regain some of the feeling in my neck area. There's a small popping noise, and a sudden flood of relief, enough to keep me going for a while.  
  
"Getting tired up there?" Seifer's voice asks from behind, the sound of mockery in his voice. I neglect to reply for various reasons: one, I really do not want to get into an argument/insult war over me getting a little tired, and two, this place just has an aura that destroys any wishes (of mine) to talk. Seifer lets the question go unanswered, perhaps under the same effects of that 'aura' as I am.  
  
After several more hallways, each taking us a different direction than before, so that it almost feels like we're going in circles (and me with my bad sense of direction), we come into another room. This room is not so much of a hallway, but an actual room. I vaguely notice that here there is more water than in the last few rooms, and it's now about an inch or so deep.  
  
In this new chamber, the overall shape is that of a large rectangle with two exits, three if you count the way that we just came through. I walk into this new space, the others following closely behind me, and once in the middle I stop to look around. It's completely barren, except for the occasional pile of rubble laying about on the ground. All that marks this room as any different from the others is that the the path branches off from here.  
  
That, and the wall have torches (unlit) hanging from little metal holders on them.   
  
Someone up there might just like me a little more than I though they did - do - whatever.  
  
"Hey, guys," I mumble. This whole using Din's fire thing is really wearing me out. When I was. . .well, still in Hyrule, I could cast that spell many Times and hardly break a sweat. I could take down an entire legion (not that I'm trying to brag) with that spell alone, and be ready for whatever came next. Now, I can hardly keep a small orb of that same fire alight for. . .however long we've been here.  
  
Maybe I'm getting senile and frail in my old age.  
  
The thought brings a small smile to my face, and so I point to the torches and ask the others to grab them. They do as I ask, bringing back the three torches that decorate the room's walls. I thank them and one good look tells me that these torches will do just fine. Like so many other things in this place, they are not rotten (a little old). I'm a little amazed at this fact, almost everything in this area so far is in near perfect condition (the bow, the torches), even after being abandoned for so many years. And the skeletons that were strewn about the town lead (and the terrible condition of the buildings) me to believe that no one has tried to reinhabit this place. So, how come so many things are in such good condition?  
  
Maybe the monsters which are supposedly here restocked the place with new torches a while back?  
  
I shake my head to dispel the thought. What does it really matter whether the torches are still useable after half a millennium or not?   
  
Quistis uses a small fire spell (and tells me to stop my spell before I 'drop', as she so elegantly put it) to light the torches, and then gives one of the long wooden, flaming sticks to Seifer, and herself. the third torch she leaves unlit, and then hands it to Zell.  
  
"Sorry," she says, turning towards me, "There's only three torches, and I thought that one might as well be left unlit. I assume we're going to split up here, into groups of two. And what help would it be if we had one group with two torches going at once?  
  
Feeling relatively relieved that I don't have to keep a little floating orb alight, I accept that in a rather calm fashion. And why shouldn't I? Granted, I'm slightly nervous about the whole idea of going back to save Squall (there's a part of me who for the last few minutes has started trying to convince me that I'm going to mess up), despite the fact that if I fail, I can always go back and try again (which is a bit trying on the mind, especially if you fail more than once). Besides that, I'm feeling relatively relaxed.  
  
But there's still one question I have to ask. . .  
  
"Why not give me the extra torch," I ask, pausing to think about it, "Not like it matters that much, but. . .oh. I see. I guess a torch wouldn't be all that helpful if I can just summon a light, huh?"   
  
Quistis nods, before facing the others (and thus creating a little circle amongst the four of us), "Okay, I've thought about it, and I believe that if we have one blade per group, we'll do much better if battle arises." The thought of me and Seifer fighting (and arguing) together appears in my mind, and so does the image of Zell and Quistis, a martial artist and a woman with a whip. Not the best weapons for monster fighting (or at least for the kinds of creature's I'm used to seeing around here). I must say that I think she's quite right, "So the teams will be like this; Seifer and Zell, you should take that left path-" she takes a brief glance at me, and I nod my 'agreement'. Malon was right. . . "-and Link, you and me will take the path at the far end of the room."   
  
Maybe she's right. . .maybe this way, this method of grouping us, is best. Maybe she didn't just group me and her together because she likes me.  
  
Did she?  
  
The other two nod and head off towards their appointed door, but Zell more quickly than Seifer. I see the Gunblader give me and the Instructor a bit of a look before he follows Zell, walking instead of running like the Martial Artist. They disappear into the dark, their torch lighting up the way just enough that by the Time that I turn to face Quistis, the only thing visible in that hall is a faint orange light.  
  
"Let's go," she says, raising her torch slightly, "Shall we?" She motions for me to move forward first, and I do, but she catches up to me quickly, and soon we are walking side by side. This hall is like all the other halls, and in my mind I would be surprised to see a change anytime soon.   
  
The heels of Quistis' shoes click against the floor, creating a mantra of monotone tapping. Like a clock, well, sort of. She keeps the torch up, the blaze just a bit above her head, while she trains her eyes forward in the darkness. However, when she notices me looking at her, she gives me a questioning look from the corner of her eye.  
  
"Ah, sorry," I may have said it genuinely, but right now my head is spinning for an excuse, "I'm just not used to traveling such places with someone with me." I don't like how I ended that, it sounds almost like a hint at what I am thinking - worrying - about.  
  
For a second, she shows no reaction, but slowly one eyebrow hikes up her forehead (surprisingly Gerudo style, if I remember correctly), and after yet another moment of waiting, she angles her head so that I can see more of her face (and both her eyes).  
  
"Really? I guess it must have been hard. . .All alone."   
  
My brow knits in a frown, ". . .Yes, I suppose it was. . ."   
  
"You never told us the entire story of what happened to you," she says, suggestively. I sigh and shake my head.  
  
"No, your right. I didn't. But do you. . .would you mind if I waited until after we help Squall? I. . .I just don't want to have to repeat myself." I stare into the space before me, letting the blackness engulf my sight. Quistis' torch is still lit, and she's paying attention to the nearby dangers, so why don't I keep an eye out for what's ahead?  
  
"That's okay," she says, "I'm just. . .kind of overwhelmed by it all. They, meaning the Garden Staff, always said I had a hard time dealing with trivial stuff," she sighs, "I guess they were right. So much has happened; Squall getting injured, seeing you for the first time, our little journey here. Then there was the quest to find your body, and now this. It's just. . .so much."  
  
". . .Things could be. . .worse, I suppose." [You know damn well they could be worse,] I think to myself, "Squall will be fine, soon enough."   
  
"What are you going to do after that?" she asks.  
  
"I don't know. . .Five hundred years is a long Time," I run a hand through my sweaty hair (that magic took a bit out of me), "I'd go back to my homeland, but. . .Hell, I couldn't find my way home the first Time. . ." There's a long silence in which both of us falls into our own thoughts. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, an idea comes to me, "I am kinda curious about that Afflicted that attacked Squall. . .Maybe I'll come back to this world and find out why. . ."  
  
From the corner of my eye I can see her nod slightly, but no other real reaction.  
  
We turn the corner of the hall, and down yet another. No sign of monsters or my ocarina yet, but then again, Tyrael wouldn't have left such an object just lying around on the floor. He'd have it up on some fancy pedestal, just waiting for someone to come along and grab it.  
  
Speaking of which, why would Tyrael put my ocarina here to begin with? Ole pattern boy, as his nickname suggests, is quite predictable, but I can't see why he would choose this place (or Tristram in general) for the ocarina. I can't see any kind of connection. . .  
  
"I wonder what the original purpose of this place was?" Quistis says to me, "Why would someone build such an underground labyrinth under a well?"  
  
"You'd be surprised," I murmur, causing her attention to snap towards me, "In my own world there was something like this, but far more. . .dark. Mysterious, gloomy, whatever. As for this place, I have no clue."  
  
"It's certainly not as much of a monster's den as we were told it was, now is it?"   
  
"It's pretty damn empty, that's for sure. . ."  
  
We quiet down again. With Quistis' monotonous clock ticking heels, it seems almost as if I can hear ever second that goes by. . .And I feel like hours have already passed. Much more and I think I might flip, it's driving me crazy! That endless tick tock that marks our progress. . .  
  
A while (and a large number of tick tocks) later, we reach another chamber, but somewhat unlike the last one. Instead of being wide and rectangular, this one is more like a widened hall, and at the far end there's a corner. However, that's not what catches my attention. . .  
  
Quistis and I are still in the doorway, she's leaning tightly against the wall, while I'm doing my best to hide in the shadows. Across from us walk four small blue imps. They carry torches of their own (lucky for us) so they don't notice our light. I tell Quistis to put the torch down on the ground, we can always come back for it later. She agrees wordlessly.  
  
"What are they?" she then asks in a whispering tone.  
  
"They're called Carvers. Easy to kill and as dumb as a doornail," to prove my point, two of the Carvers walk into each other and get into a shoving match of sorts, the slightly smaller one pulling on the other's tied back black hair, while the taller tries to step on the other's foot, "They're only advantage is when they get into big groups and try to surround their victims. They also are some of the biggest cowards you will ever see. Kill one, and most will start running. We should kill them quick, so they don't stumble on a larger group and tell them about us."   
  
"Okay," she whispers, "What's the plan?"  
  
"Hmm. . .I could shot them with my bow. . .but, I'll kill them quicker if I use my sword. . .So, I'll charge at them, and once I've neared the first, you come out and whip them. Although your whip is a little loud, the sound of magic exploding or whatever will attract far more attention."   
  
She nods, and I reach one hand back, pulling my bowstring over my head. With it in my hands, I knock an arrow to the bow, and without any warning (to myself or to Quistis) I start off. Running as fast as I can, I head into the middle of the room, taking aim while I run.  
  
The dumb Carvers don't notice me right away, but when they do they run towards me, their scimitars up and waving into the air.   
  
Once the first one gets within twenty feet of me, I fire the arrow deep into his skull. Luckily, my aim was good (I am a fairly good archer, actually) and he drops to the ground, dead or dying, it doesn't matter. I move on, dropping my bow to the ground and drawing my sword. I can pick up my bow later, but I can't let those things get away.  
  
The other three turn around and begin to run, but they have no chance. I am upon them within a moment (I am far faster than they are), my sword cutting through the air. I am quickly able to single one out, he seems more scared than the others and so, it wasn't hard to separate him from his fellows. He turns off to the side, before tripping and falling to the ground.  
  
A smirk twitches at the corners of my lips, the feel of battle enticing me once more. It's been so long. . .The call, the need to feel the sword in my hands and I swing, a life in my hands to do with as I can and wish to. . .For one moment, I am a judge of Life or Death and I'm loving every second of it because for once I am the prosecutor and not the accused. No one's eyes are staring me down, calling me a coward or a heathen or a failure or anything else. I am the one who makes the decisions, I carry out the sentence and I kill.  
  
My blade sinks deep into the back of the flailing Carver's head, his twisting limbs suddenly go limp as his life fades from him, and draining out in the form of the blood that's flooding the slightly damp floor. The blood and the thin veil of water combine together, creating a crimson mirror, in which I can see myself as I wretch out the blade from the beast's skull, a vile, twisted smirk on my face.  
  
The need is still there, but the feeling has faded, and I turn around seeking the other Carvers. I wish to kill them, partly because if they get away then there could be trouble, and partly because that feeling is still calling for me again, and I want to. . .  
  
Suddenly, here, in the middle of battle, I have just realized that there is something I want, but I'm not quite sure what it is. It's some kind of strange battle lust, I know that, but why I want their death so bad is beyond me. Quistis noticing my hesitation runs over and uses her whip to stop the Carvers from going to far. It takes me only a second, but I snap out of it, running to help the Instructor.  
  
Her whip is good only for keeping the Carvers from going far, but it does next to no damage to them. They are used to such treatment, as they are basically the slaves of the higher up Demons and Devils. They are still afraid of it though, but it's not going to kill them any Time soon.  
  
I dash towards them, that feeling rising up in my body again, screaming at me to make that kill. I've always felt this way, ever since I was a child. Apparently, it's not all that abnormal, just a little uncommon. It still (when I still have the mind power to think) bothers me.   
  
Maybe Tyrael was right. . .?  
  
I shake my head as I prepare to swing at the nearest enemy, a Carver who, at the sight of me and the sword in my hand, screeches as he tries to run away. Of course, it's too late, I simply run him through from behind, impaling him on this new blade of mine. There's a satisfying squelch and blood spatters on to my clothing, but I don't care.   
  
It feels so good. . .Fighting, I've missed it so much. . .  
  
I raise a booted foot, pushing the unlucky Carver off my sword and on to the ground, a bloody footprint on his forehead. He falls, limp, to the ground, twitching a few Times as he breathes his last.   
  
The last Carver looks up at Quistis, then at me, it's mouth forming a comical 'o' of surprise. Quickly, he turns around and starts heading to leave, running as quick as his small chubby legs can carry him. I start running after him, my sword ready and angled in an aerodynamic way, keeping it from slowing me down.   
  
Still, the little imp has a bit of a head start on me, as just as he's about to round the corner, I can hear Quistis' whip crack in the air. less than a second later, the strange material of the whip is encircling him and pulling him to an abrupt stop. He falls to the ground and lands hard on his ass, turning around and squealing in terror as I get even closer.  
  
He struggles to get up, several Times, but each Time he fails and I find myself chuckling lightly.   
  
The sword in my hands is swung, glimmering in the light from the Carver's fallen torch. My blade separates the being's head from it's body, and the creature (headless and all) goes limp in the grip of the whip.   
  
Too easy. . .  
  
"Impressive blood lust you've got there," Quistis states as she trots towards my panting form, coiling up the whip again. As she walks by the monster we just killed, she bends down and picks up it's torch, before standing straight again. As she nears me she starts studying me closely, almost warily. I'm trembling with excitement, my breath coming fast not from exertion (if that was hard work, I would never have defeated Diablo) but from the exultation of the battle. I slowly regain my composure. . .  
  
"I like fighting," I shrug, "So does Squall actually, but he's a lot better at hiding it. Maybe he doesn't like it quite as much. . ." Quistis silences me by handing me my bow. She must have picked it up sometime during the battle, maybe as she was coming to help me with the whip? It doesn't really matter, she hands it to me and I accept it willingly. It didn't crack or break during it's fall to the ground (something I'm grateful for), nor has the wood warped.  
  
This is a really good bow. . .  
  
I look at the blood on my sword (my bow is again over my shoulders), wishing for something to wipe off that crimson hue with. But, as I have nothing extra, that blood will just have to wait. It'd be better if I had a cloth or something, but I'm not going to stain my clothes just to clean off the blood. It can wait a little while, until I find something better to use.  
  
I shake the blade in the air a little, ridding it of as much blood as I can, before I start to resheath it. The sudden realization of having a bloody sheath if I continue hits me, and I refrain from putting my blade away. I might as well do my best to keep the sheath clean, and it's not going to kill me to keep my sword out instead of putting it away. Actually, it should save me some Time.  
  
A moment later, with some hesitation from Quistis' part, we continue around the bend in the room. Despite the Instructor's obvious suspicions, there is nothing there, just a small ways to yet another hall. Quistis falls a few steps behind me, seeming to have lost some of her courage since the battle. I, however, remain steadfast. I've fought far worse things in dungeons far darker than this.  
  
"That was quite easy," Quistis states, almost seeming to try and lighten the mood, "I'm assuming the monsters get harder than that."  
  
I nod, "Some are rather difficult, but I don't think we'll be coming across anything too hard. . .Whoa, SHIT!" I frantically jump into the air, my progress upwards quickly followed by several large spikes that have shot up from the ground. I sail through the air, and after what feels like an eternity (I keep thinking that I'm going to drop and land on those spikes), I land on the ground on the other side of the spikes, falling into a crouched position.  
  
There's clapping from behind me, "Impressive," I can hear Quistis say, a little awe struck "But how did you know about the spikes?" I can hear the confusion and the suspicion in her voice, but I do my best to not take it the wrong way. After all, she was raised in a mercenary academy. I turn around and sit on the ground, propping myself up with my hands as I lean back.  
  
"I heard a click, so, I jumped," I shrug, "Every trap I've ever come across in this world clicks as the trigger is set off. I've kind of grown used to it. . ." I end lamely, trying my best not to sound like I'm bragging.  
  
"I can't jump that high, how am I supposed to get across?" she asks, crossing her arms.   
  
"If you run across, you won't set it off. It's not a wide trap, only about four rows long. Just run and you'll be fine. I was walking so. . ." I shrug again, "Don't worry about it. Even if it does set off, just listen for the click and then run like Hell."  
  
She nods, taking a single step back. And then she runs like there's no tomorrow; one hand holding the torch while her other holds her whip and she bolts across the dangerous area. She moves at a speed commendable for a human (not that I have anything against them), darting quickly over the area before the spikes could even be triggered. She reaches my side, gasping for air, but whether because of exertion or fright, I have no clue.  
  
After letting the Instructor rest for a moment to recover, we continue forward and into the next hall. I keep my eyes open for any extra torches, but there are none, none except for the three we found earlier (convenient). I guess I should have taken one of those torches from the Carvers. Oh well, at least I have Din's fire if we need it.  
  
We walk in silence, Quistis seems still a little shaken (so I guess she was scarred) from the trap, while I simply have nothing to talk about. Her boots keep Time as we walk through the dark halls, the pathetic light from our torches doing so little to help, but it's good enough.  
  
Despite the quiet, I find myself rather content with the way things are working out. Sure, if Squall didn't get hurt in the first place, I would be just that more happy, but otherwise, this didn't turn out too bad. I've got my body back, the SeeDs that have accompanied me thus far are alive and well, and we may be close to getting out of here once and for all.  
  
Or should I say that I am close of getting out of here. . .?  
  
No matter. It won't be long before I help Squall and. . .  
  
And I'll find something to do after that.  
  
I kind of wander in and out of thoughts for the next while, my head swimming with possibilities. I could go back to Hyrule, maybe see if I can at least ease that feeling in my heart that there's something wrong there. I could, I guess, stay with the people of Balamb Garden (if they would let me) for the rest of my Time. There's many possibilities. . .so many. . .but which is the right choice?  
  
It isn't until I realize that the surrounding area is getting oh so much brighter that my attention comes back on to the caves in which we are in. My head snaps up from it's gaze on the floor, and back on to the far side of the hall. A strong orange glow is emanating from there, from a room that we're slowly coming towards.  
  
I look at Quistis to see that she is a little apprehensive of that light as well, and without a second thought, I pull her to the wall. If that's what I think it is, then this trip could go a lot worse if we're not careful. I force the two of us to hide in the shadows, creeping up slowly on to this sudden and very possible threat.  
  
I can only wonder how the guys are doing. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Yeah, the chapter was originally meant to be a lot longer than this, but it got to the point where it would have become a bit too long had I continued, so I split this chapter up. The next chapter won't take very long to get out.  
  
Um...Oh yeah. I realize that in the game of D2, that the portal to Tristram is red, not blue, but just for this it's going to be blue, k? Got any problems with that, and you can go tell Karadur about it.   
  
Sorry, I'm really tired [Yawns]. Didn't get much sleep last night. . .  
  
One last thing: my bio page has been real bitchy recently, so if you want to check on my stories you're going to have to do one of two things to get a correct showing. A) go to http://www.fanfiction.net/~h7 , or B) if you click on the link to check out my fav stories or authors, then the page corrects itself.  
  
Btw, a Night Clan is a black goat clan thing. It's easy to tell what their color is from their name, as it usually has something to do with it. Night Clans are black, Blood Clans are red, Moon Clans are a green/brown earthy color. . . ect.  
  
When you people look for the next chapter (coming out in about 3-4 days) look for this story under the name "Act II : Trial of a Man". That's right, I'm finally changing the name!   
  
Feedback would be appreciated, so please review! If you didn't like it, tell me, and if you did, than please feel free to tell me. That's it, so see ya later!  
  
PS - Thank you for all your support! 


	15. Chapter XIV Monster's Den Part II

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XIV - Monster's Den part 2  
  
~*~  
  
"What is it?" I whisper through clenched teeth, trying my best to stay hidden behind the box. Seifer's beside me, looking over the top of the box as well, using it kinda like a shield. There's a monster ahead of us, and we have no clue what the little ugly thing even is.  
  
"I don't know," he murmurs back, the two of us ducking again as the little blue imp thing turns in our direction. I'm not sure on what we're supposed to do now. It would be better if we had that Elf guy Link with us still, but hey, we spilt up where we had to. And besides, what's it matter if some little imp thing attacks us anyways? It can't do much, not at that size, ya know.  
  
After a few moments, we both look up and over the boxes again. The little thing is just wandering around, kinda aimlessly. It's got a torch, so we don't have to worry about our own light giving us away. It's also got this nasty looking scimitar in it's hands, the curved blade shining in the light. It's a bit of an intimidating sight, or, at least, it would be. If the imp thing were more than three feet tall, then well, maybe I would be a bit scared.   
  
"What do we do?" I ask in a quiet tone.  
  
"We fight it," he answers, still whispering, "What else?" And suddenly, Seifer leaps out from behind the boxes and charges the enemy. The little imp thing gives a squeal of fright and drops it's torch before it starts running away, farther down the hall. Seifer sprints after it, chasing it into the darkness. Since neither of them have a torch (I'm holding both the lit one and the extra in my hands, as Seifer fights better with both hands open), I start running after them before I lose them.   
  
He better not get lost. . .  
  
~*~  
  
We stand at the entrance to a hall that is filled with the orange light of lit fires, staring in as we try to avoid detection. The orange light comes from many lit fires burning in various places on the floor. Whatever such blazes are using as fuel remains unseen as their light is far too strong to see into. There's a maze of boxes and barrels, and every so often, I can see movement in between the supplies, or whatever that stuff is. At the far end of the room (through the boxes) I can just catch sight of an exit, and there's another on the farther end of the left wall.  
  
I can also hear the shuffling of feet. . .And heavy breathing. . .  
  
"What? What do you see?" Quistis asks me quietly, smart enough to keep her voice down. I look into her blue eyes (sparkling and bright in the light of the fires).  
  
"There's monsters over there, but I can't be sure how many, or what types. There's also two exits to this room, so, we're going to have to split up again." My voice is unintentionally hard and cold, but I can't help it. I know that there's a lot of monsters in this place, and while I know I'll be alright, I've got to worry about Quistis. Sure, if she were to die now, it wouldn't be that big of a deal but there would be blame I would put on myself.  
  
Sometimes it's a curse to go back in Time and remember the alternate future.  
  
"Should we try sneaking up on them?" she asks, but I shake my head and face the scene before us again.  
  
"No, I'll go in and see what there is there. If there's anything to be worried about, then I'll. . .I don't know what I'll do, but I will think of something. You just wait here and stay out of sight, okay?" She nods lightly, and I dart off into the light, doing my best to conceal myself with a crouching run. As I near the boxes and such, I stop behind the rows for a moment, before taking a peak around the edges. If nothing's there, I continue forward. I'm also listening as best as I can so I don't have something sneak up behind me.  
  
It all goes good until I've passed three or four rows of boxes. Then, as I peak around the side of the box, I see (and hear) a thing moving. It's hard to be sure, but I think it's a Fallen, or a Carver or something of that general family line. It's not a challenge to kill one of those things, but I don't want for it to squeal or scream or whatever and alert anything else in here to my presence, so I can't just charge it. I can't kill it quietly as it goes by, because with my luck it wouldn't be surprising if some monster found the body and put up the alert for an intruder. So, instead of the first two options, I chose number three: I jump up on the tops of the boxes as quietly as I can manage.  
  
There's a light thud, but no more of a disturbance than that. I lay flat to the surface of the wood, waiting for an opportunity to move to the next set of boxes without being seen. . .There's Fallens (or Carvers or whatevers, I can't make out their coloring, and it isn't all that important) moving through the rows of boxes like some kind of strange sentinels. I watch each of them pass by the box I am on, and every Time just as I am about to jump, another walks into the range. If I were to jump, he would see me, and that would cause so much more trouble.  
  
There has to be a point where I can pull it off. . .There always is. . .  
  
"Hm, you used to be so good at this secretive stuff," Malon's voice comes from somewhere to my right, "Maybe you're getting rusty?" I look over my shoulder to see her, laying on the top of a box that is a few feet higher than the one I'm on. She smiles at me, before turning so that she's laying down on her side, in an almost seductive way.  
  
I scowl at her, turning my attention back to the maze before me. . .There was someone who said to me once that. . .I frown and cradle my head with my hands, as if that would help me remember. Why is it so hard for me to recall?  
  
They said. . .um, they said. . .  
  
Malon sighs from my right, "You stupid bastard, your Guardian Fairy - Navi, by the way, that was her name - said to you once that everything follows a cycle, that there is a pattern to everything. She said that to you while you were a kid, remember?. . .Of course not, you couldn't even remember her name. . ." I don't need to face her to know that she's smiling, smiling at my faults and mistakes.   
  
[Shut up!] I snap at her, [So I can't remember, big deal. Maybe I bumped my head or-]  
  
"And see?" she says, and I can almost feel her joy, as if it were tangible, "Here you are, making excuses for yourself yet again. It never ends with you, does it?" I come surprisingly close to growling out loud for her to leave me alone, and almost as if sensing my thoughts (which she can do at any Time), she disappears, fading out into the orange light.  
  
I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Now that's she's said it, I remember now, Navi. That was my Fairy's name. . .I can't even believe that I'd forgotten it. . .  
  
I rescan the area, but that opening has still not made itself visible. . .Come on, open up already. . .There!  
  
Suddenly, I jump from my laying down/crouched position and up into the air, on to the next box. At first, the box wobbles and I feel my breath catch in my throat, but it turns out fine. I'm about to release a sigh before I realize that it's going to have to wait, lest I wish to get caught. I shake my head again, peering over the edges of the boxes. Again, there is almost no one coming, but there's just enough for me to risk my neck if I were to go now.   
  
So I wait, and wonder if I should just snipe the enemies? And how am I supposed to alert Quistis when it's safe to come? What should I do, go back? No, I wouldn't make it. I'm no damned Sheikah, I'd mess up and land and cause a pile of boxes to collapse. . . What can I do then? I'm starting to think that my only option is to kill them all. . .   
  
The way clears up, and with a jump that surprises me, I almost expertly land on the row of boxes ahead of me, falling instantly again into that crouched, low to the ground (or in this case, low to the tops of the boxes) stance. This row is really high off the ground (really, really high), I'm only a few feet from the elevated roof. From here on, there's a bit of a clearing in the maze of boxes, and what's inside that opening gives me a bit of a start.  
  
There's a mass of monsters, maybe somewhere near a hundred. Most of them are those little imps with the torches (there's a wide assortment of colors), there's also quite a few tainted Rogues (all female from what I can see, and they look just like the normal rogues; lithe and smart, yet they are very dark in color and their skin is grey). There's also a few monsters I don't recognize; a few serpentine creatures and small goblins. The serpents are creatures that walk on four legs, their bodies long and thin, their backs covered in small upward spines. They walk in a rather sleek fashion, their tongue flicking out every few seconds into the air.  
  
Isn't that how they smell, or something?  
  
The goblin creatures are not entirely unlike the Fallen-like beings, but they are a little taller, though they tend to hunch over. Their skin is a dark brown, and they have very lanky limbs. Most of them hobble around, twirling their little clubs about. They are bald, with slightly pointed ears (though not as long as Elven ears) and brown colored skin. They were loincloths around their waists, and some have some rather old armor (all the pieces are very small, though) with them.  
  
There's also skeletons, not large ones like the Stalfos that I have only seen in Hyrule. These are smaller, more human sized skeletons. They carry around a strange assortment of weapons (as do the corrupted Rogues), anything from swords to spears to bows are in their skeletal hands. The remnants of tattered cloth and rotten flesh is sometimes visible on their bodies, but I think that they are probably beyond the state of smelling bad. Most of these skeletons are yellow and slightly cracked with age, so they look positively ancient.  
  
This, not to mention the Fallens that patrol through the boxes, make up a nice little wall between me and that door. And then there's Quistis to think about, and how am I supposed to get her through?  
  
The only solution I can possibly think of is creating a distraction, and then using the chaos that follows to go through. But how am I to warn Quistis? I could go back, but I'd probably get seen, therefore causing a whole army of monsters to follow me as I run over to the narrow halls of where Quistis is hiding. Normally, narrow halls would be an advantage, but with so many they'd slowly push us back and eventually we would have no where to go. . .  
  
A distraction. . .Hm. . .I could shoot a target, and that would scare the Fallen-like creatures into running (and hopefully the Goblin creatures as well), which - if I'm lucky - would cause the rest to become confused. Doesn't sound like too bad of a plan, but how am I supposed to get Quistis' attention? If I were to fire an arrow in her direction, I could a) possibly hit her, b) cause all my little monster buddies to know I'm here, and or c) accomplish nothing.  
  
Oh well, maybe the noise from the distraction will catch her attention. . .  
  
I knock an arrow to my bow and take aim. . .It's those lizard things I worry about most, so taking one careful moment, I select the strongest looking lizard and bring it into my sights, before firing. The the arrow flies true, right into the eye of the lizard, which releases a horrible howl while the rest of the room goes dead silent. Quistis should have heard that, and will hopefully be on her way. Before it even has the Time to finish it's cry or begin it's search to find out who hurt it, I draw another arrow and fire near instantly. The second arrow flies well, and as the beast is turning it's head to look for it's assailant, the second arrow get's it's other eye. Another spray of blood (accompanied by little oozing bits of brain) runs down the sides of the creature's face, and it falls to the ground.   
  
I smile as almost all the Fallens give a wail of dismay and begun running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The goblins start fleeing around as well, most of them seeming to be nearly as cowardice as the imps. The rest of the serpents run to their fallen comrade, sniffing his corpse, appearing to be the only creatures who have not lost their cool. Everything else is in absolute chaos.   
  
I drop from the top of the boxes and drop about ten feet, before I land on a barrel. With the grace that can only come from being Elven, I land perfectly, and hop off the barrel on to the floor. I put my bow away quickly, and draw my sword, hoping that I'm hidden well enough in the shadows to avoid detection. The slight metallic hiss of my blade draws the attention of one of the serpents -   
  
[Ilik,] I think, [That's what they are called.]  
  
- one of the Ilik, and it hisses to it's friends, and soon they too are looking at me. Within seconds, they all charge as one at me, a total of six Ilik each running with the speed of a horse, and so much more grace. They almost seem to flow through the air before them, and it parts willingly, as if ashamed to delay their progress simply by existing.  
  
One of the six nears me, and I'm forced to jump up and over it, lest I be trapped in the corner. I leap above it's head, my landing looking like it's gonna be a good one, but I'll have to run out of the way unless I want to be cornered again. A slight smirk on my face, I prepare myself to hit the hard ground and head off running.  
  
However, it's something other than the hard ground that I come in contact with.  
  
The beast I leapt over seems to have a fairly good level of control over it's tail, and it proves this to me quite well as said body part smashes into my side and throws me halfway across the clearing. I come down hard on my ribs, rolling with the momentum from the hit. It burns, my side, but nothing too serious. I struggle to get to my knees, hoping that I can move before another attack. That hope is dashed as one of the lizards rams me from behind. I slide forwards, my face scraping across the floor until I finally come to a stop.  
  
My head. . .it's spinning. . .  
  
I can hear the sound of heavy footsteps as I lay on the ground, and with the small presence of mind that I have left, I realize that if I don't move there's gonna be even more hurt. Somehow, before the lizards (or whatever it is right now) can attack me, I manage to roll to the side, and away from the owner of the heavy footsteps.  
  
Calling up all my strength, I am able to stand. I've somehow still got my sword in my hand, and I can still stand.   
  
I'm alright, I can do this. . .  
  
Glancing about frantically, I almost miss the oncoming lizard as it charges towards me, quickly followed by it's brothers. . .or sisters. . .whatever. I raise my blade, waiting for the proper moment to strike. The conscious, logical part of my mind quickly fades out, becoming entranced by the glimmering of the torch light on my still bloody blade. Coming to replace that important side of my psyche is my more instinctual side, the part of me that doesn't give up (doesn't know how), that fights until death and darkness and beyond.   
  
The thing that made me the Hero of Time. . .  
  
Logic taking a back seat, I raise the sword and hold it at a diagonal to my face. The oncoming beast snarls and darts at me. I'm ready, however, and once the thing is within five feet, I swing the blade down and outwards, the blade creating a large gash across the beast's forehead.  
  
Heh, that reminds me of Squall and his scar.  
  
The beast falters, and I use the opportunity to stab the Ilik, using my broad sword like an overly large dagger. It's head is pierced and run through, the metal tip coming out the bottom of it's throat, the sword pinning it's skull to the ground. I smile, and yank the weapon free. Without my blade there to hold the wound, the blood spills on to the ground in a frothing flood. The foam translucent, yet tinged with that ageless red. . .  
  
The five remaining beasts near me, taking no heed of their dead comrade. Everything else is still in a panic, nothing even seems to notice our fight. The other monsters, oblivious to our battle, are moving about in a frenzied rush, hitting into each other and bumping into the boxes and barrels, completely disoriented.  
  
All the better for me.  
  
The Iliks charge at me, their movements as fluid as water. They fan out around me, one directly head on with me, two immediately to it's sides, and two more trying to circle around behind me. Their forked tongues slither out of their mouths, often coming almost close enough to touch my clothing. I drop my sword arm down to my side and angle the blade for a diagonal attack, my other arm raised up and in front of my chest slightly, as if it's going to protect me from an attack.  
  
With such a sudden ferocity that I can barely keep the surprise at the borders of my mind, the Iliks lunge at me, all five of them at once. Earlier experiences have proven that I can't just jump over them, and a head on attack would be a suicide move. If I were to do that, they'd surround me and block any chance for escape.  
  
As the beasts near, I dodge to the right, thus allowing the angered Iliks to breeze right past me. As the nearest one soars by, I slash my sword up it's side, through it's ribs and I also manage to score a good part of it's back. Tendrils of blood form creating a maroon aura for my blade. The five of them smash into each other, crumpling to the ground in an unorganized heap. Even with their impressive agility, they are unable to make a sharp enough turn for them to have caught me when I dodged.   
  
The five Iliks wobble to their feet, most of them just slightly dazed from the collision, but the one I injured is having a much harder Time than the rest. It's legs keep trying to buckle under it, and it's breathing is erratic and harsh. Blood contrasts it's green scales along the sides of it's body, fluctuating beautifully as it's chest heaves to breathe.  
  
I run towards it (I'm only a few feet away) and as I near, I take my sword into both hands, and I plunge the blade down into it's upper back. A crimson spout shoots up and hits me in my face, marking me with the dead creature's blood, as if I care. The thing breathes one last Time and I watch for a moment before I am forced to jump out of the way, three more of the Iliks leaping at me. They miss (luckily for me) and landing from my own jump I skid for several feet backwards on the stone floor. Blade raised again, using it partially as a shield for the front of my body. I near the first of the three beasts, preparing for a strike that could - and hopefully will - kill.  
  
Wasn't there four left?  
  
Where's the fourth?  
  
I have no Time to wonder as the snapping jaws of one of the Iliks nearly clamps around my leg. Fortunately, I withdraw my leg from the fray before those razor teeth can come close enough to tear my flesh, and as the creature's head nears for that second snap, I give it a good kick to the eye socket. It rears back it's neck (much like how a snake would recoil), it's head shuddering as it tries to quell the pain.  
  
All this happens within the briefest of moments, and before the other creatures have the Time to catch up to me and attack, I swing my sword down upon the still stunned creature, deep into it's throat. The thing flails wildly, a deep churning sound emanating from it's neck as it's breathing hitches, the life being steadily drained from it.  
  
I withdraw the sword quickly, yanking it free just as another creature nears me. I dodge it's initial attacks, though one of it's claws do scrape my arm lightly at one point. I can feel the warmth of my blood dripping down my arm as I continue on, dodging and moving and never keeping still keep me alive during this, though I've fought much tougher enemies before. But that does not make these creatures any less dangerous, their claws can still kill, their teeth can still sever, and I still have to be careful. Just take my Time and not do anything foolish.  
  
In this dance of Death it feels like an eternity has passed (and maybe it has?) but that doesn't bother me. I enjoy the heavy weight of the sword in my hands as I swing it, the blade cutting the air with this hiss of a wind, the thrill of the possibility of losing. One false move and I may never move again, never live or breathe or love or fight or hate-  
  
Powerful jaws snap at my sword in a futile attempt to hold it still, and upon the mouth of the beast clamping the blade down with it's teeth, I simply thrust the weapon down into the throat of the Ilik. It's muscles seizure as I continue to cut various blood vessels and nerves.  
  
It isn't long (though I bet it's a lifetime for the Ilik) before I pull out the weapon to turn and block another strike from behind me. Despite the fact that I've stopped it's attack, this new Ilik is still bearing down it's weight upon me, hoping to overpower me.  
  
Now, as far as I can tell, these Ilik are pretty heavy creatures, yet I am able to keep myself from toppling over. It's close, I'm just starting to bend over backwards with this thing pushing down with both it's claws on the sharp edge of my sword (it's bleeding a little from the cuts but I don't think it cares right now).  
  
My knees are bending and I'm starting to wonder if I should start praying to something when I get hit in the legs by some unknown object. This thing, heavy and long (I'm guessing a tail), takes my legs out from under me and I fall hard and fast to the stone floor.   
  
And the Ilik I was holding up prepares his claws as he falls down on me. . .  
  
Quickly I raise my sword to protect my chest, and the beast's claws come again into contact with the metal and the air rings with the sound. It presses it's immense weight down on my chest, slowly crushing me. I struggle to force it off, and as I do, I take a glance around. Coming towards us is the last lizard, it's teeth bared.  
  
Losing the battle of strength (I'm gasping for air as it is pushing down on my chest so hard), I put my feet to the stomach of the monster, my need for speed controlling my actions now. With a good kick to the abdomen, I'm free and I roll away as the creature again tries to come down on top of me. I make it out from underneath it, and as it comes back down I raise my sword, slashing the creature's hide deeply. It releases a howl of agony, preparing to turn and attack me, but before it can I thrust my sword into it's shoulder, through hide and muscle and bone.   
  
I have to use my foot to kick the monster of my blade, and when I finally get it off, it falls to the ground, dead. The rest of the room is still in chaos, Fallens and Goblins running amok while the skeletons and the Rogues seem to being trying to tie together some form of organization again, but failing miserably. I can see no sign of the last lizard, and there's nothing else that seems to have interest in my intrusion (the skeletons are too busy trying to form their armies and the imp things are just running about).  
  
I am just about to try and find Quistis when I hear a click on the stone floor, somehow audible above the roar.  
  
I turn about and I can see the lizard standing across from me, a look in his eye that almost mimics intelligence. Otherwise, he's much the same as the rest; around four to five feet tall, green scaled with a white underbelly, clawed feet and a long tapering tail. But just the way it stands so cockily gives it almost a human personality about itself.  
  
It gives little warning before it charges, but I soon follow suit, and then we are flying at each other. It nears and I roll to the side, causing the creature to go off balance during it's last second attempt to turn around. As it struggles to remain upright and at the same Time turn around and face me, I leap at it, my feet landing down on it, pinning it's upper body to the ground, stabbing it's chest with my weapon. The blade slams down, digging deep inside of it, killing it with an awful howl.  
  
No, not very hard monsters at all. . .  
  
. . .Though I am a little sore. . .  
  
The sound of a whip crack reminds me of exactly where I am, and I rush over towards the boxes (where I think the sound came from). I'm a bit of a distance away from them, but I reach them quickly (taking the opportunity to behead a few Fallens along the way). Looking down the lopsided corridors of wood, I can see Quistis fending herself off from several Fallens. They seem to be regaining their courage a little (at least over here), and I think we should get moving before they all wizen up.  
  
I motion to her (it takes the dear Instructor a moment to realize what I am doing), and with another attack or two she finally clears up the way enough for her to come through. She reaches my side quickly (followed by that familiar clicking of her shoes), and soon we're clearing our way through the cloud of monsters.  
  
I run with my blade, taking a swipe every so often. And each Time I connect with something - I cut open the chest of a Fallen, I break the leg bones of a skeleton, I decapitated a Goblin and then I impale another one quickly, and many more. They fall behind me in waves, while Quistis stays close. While her weapon is good and she's great with it, it's hard to use a whip while running.  
  
Of course, maybe there's more than one reason for her staying close to me. . .  
  
I shake my head to clear my thoughts, logic returning now that - we've gotten for the most part - out of danger. My battle logic and strategy never really left me, I suppose, but thinking about the small things like I am now never really happens during actual battles.  
  
I come to a stop, stirring up a bit of the dust on the floor (what ever happened to that water from before in the earlier halls?) and I turn around to face the Instructor.  
  
"We've got to split up here. I'll go that way- " I point to what some vague part of my mind calls north, but I can say for sure if that is north, "- and you go this way," if the first direction I pointed to was north, then she's going to be going west, "Hurry! Before the Fallens regroup." I start to run off but she grabs me by the sleeve, pulling me to a halt.  
  
"What about you? You don't have a torch!" she says, glancing briefly at the flaming stick she's carrying about, "And you are going to-"  
  
"-I'll try to grab one from one of them," I say before jerking out of her grasp and running off again. The conversation probably wasn't done in her eyes, but Time's wasting, and we need to get moving. I surge through the ever moving and tightly packed crowd, my blade flashing as I cut and hack my way through. I do get hit, occasionally. A sharp pain to my calf tells me that I've been stabbed there, and a throbbing pain in my arm does the same. Something hits me hard in the hip, and besides staggering I only continue, slashing and swiping and whatnot with this wonderful sword. I don't have the Time (nor the supplies) to stop and bandage up any wounds, so all I can keep doing is running as quickly as I can. . . Maybe I can look at my injuries later. . .  
  
I run through a large stone doorway, slaying a small Fallen and stealing his torch before the imp even hits the ground. I don't stop, just keep running deeper and deeper down my chosen cavern. I keep running, until at last a combination of slight blood loss and exhaustion cause me to slow down, and eventually stop (once I'm far enough away from that great hall).  
  
And then, as I slump down the wall, I think to myself:  
  
[How am I ever supposed to get rid of that many monsters?]  
  
~*~  
  
I see Seifer ahead of me, but I can't see that little imp thing anymore. I guess he gave Seifer the slip. The Gunblader's just kinda standing still now, his gunblade in one hand and his other on his hip. If it were anyone else, I'd probably laugh at them for such a gay way of standing, but. . .It doesn't make Seifer look female like I've seen it make some other men look.   
  
That Link fella, he does something similar to that as well. . .Usually when he's talking to ya. He puts one hand on his hip and lets his other arm hand down by his side. . .and then he looks ya right in the eyes as he talks to ya! It's just kinda odd, I suppose. . .He's got these really freaky blue eyes, I mean, a shade like I've never seen before! It's kinda creepy. His eyes, they look, I don't know. . .Kind of haunted, ya know?  
  
I run up beside Seifer (and was about to go past him as well) but he stops me with one arm and motions across the room.  
  
Opposite to us is a carcass - lying in a rather nasty smelling pool of blood - of one of those little imps (maybe even the same one), but that ain't what surprises us so much. Standing over it is the body of two large lizards, like five feet tall and green scales (and some nasty looking claws and teeth). They're sniffing the carcass, flicking out their tongues at it. Eventually, one of them snaps it's head downwards at an incredible speed, and he just takes a huge bite outta the thing.   
  
"Geez. . .You think they know we're here?" I ask Seifer, turning towards him. He shakes his head.  
  
"Of course not," he says, "The smell of all that blood is probably blocking our smell. . .And, besides, I don't think they'd care much about anything with their dinner right now. And they probably can't even see all that great, otherwise they would have spotted us by now, especially you with that torch."  
  
I look at the lizards again (now they're both tearing away at the small body), and I realize that Seifer's right. We're not that far away from them - maybe a hundred feet at the most - and yet they have not even looked at us. They're just feasting on that thing, their having a tug-of-war with it's carcass and the game finally ends when the bones in the back separate and tear the body apart.   
  
I watch as they completely devour the two pieces like it was nothing at all. They didn't even chew!  
  
"Um, Seifer?" I say, but he doesn't face me, we're both watching as the lizards turn their heads towards us, licking their chops, "I think we're in trouble."  
  
~*~  
  
I've finished checking out my wounds (and bandaging them with some of the torn tatters of my shirt). I'm in fairly good condition; I'm a little tired and a bit sore, but I've been worse. There's blood in my sheath (when I was doing all that jumping from box to box, I put away my sword without thinking) so as soon as I get out of this place, I'm going to have to clean it out properly.   
  
I've got several small scratches and gashes over my torso, and my legs have a few teeth good marks in them. That and a few bruises makes up my injuries, and each one was attended to as needed. My shirt is now a bit shorter, and frayed around the edges.  
  
I'm still sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. In one hand is my rapidly diminishing torch that I stole from that Fallen, in my other is my blood caked sword. I look at it idly out of the corner of my eye, admiring the way it feels in my tired hand.   
  
I guess I should get moving. . .  
  
I stand up (slowly, my bruised muscles groaning with agony with each motion) after sitting here for so long. I have no clue as to how much Time has passed (I don't have Quistis' time keeping high heels to help me keep track), so it could be an hour, maybe more since I came down this hall. It's hard to even have a rough estimate.  
  
After a quick stretch of my back, I begin heading down the hallway, absolutely positive that I'm not going back the way I came.  
  
At least, I hope I'm not backtracking. . .  
  
Eventually, I am follow the hallway as it makes a right turn, and I immediately plunge down into thigh deep water. I guess that there was a bit of a ledge there, and the water pooled in the depression. The torch shows the water as being an unfavorable black brown color, and it smells rather rancid. The corridor continues on through this way, and I guess I have no choice but to follow it to the end.  
  
I can feel this crap leak through my boots and I can hear the squishing sound that my feet are making. The water is cold but surprisingly not slimy (at this thought I get the brilliant idea to wash off my sword here, and I proceed to do so).  
  
I wonder where Quistis ended up at?  
  
Soon my sword is clean and I continue on, through the cold blackish liquid. There is nothing much to see, this hall is like all the others before it (except that there's this much water). There are no enemies, and few turns.   
  
"OW! Goddess DAMNIT!" I shout when I feel a burning feeling on my hand. I realize that the torch has burned itself out, and now the room falls into complete darkness. Angered, I throw the small remains of the torch into the hall, and I can vaguely hear it bounce off a wall and land in the water with a splash. I sigh and scratch my head, more out of annoyance then confusion.  
  
I guess I have no choice.  
  
I raise one hand, palm facing upwards, and I pinpoint all my will into the air there. After an eternity of darkness and effort, a flicker of light flashes over my closed eyelids, and I open them to gaze upon the wonder I have just created. The orb is a little bigger than the last ones I have made, but I can already feel it draining my energy. It floats above my palm, like it belongs there, lighting the way.  
  
Now able to see again, I resume my journeying, walking through the awful water. It's rather calm, causing me to wonder where it came from. Like, there had to be a leak somewhere for this, right?  
  
"I don't know, but I don't really think you should be worry about that," Malon says, fading into existence right beside me. She faces me, flashing me a predatory smile, "Maybe you should be more concerned with Quistis' wellbeing."   
  
"How can I? She's not here, so there's nothing I can do," I glance sharply at her, not really caring that I'm speaking out loud (no one else is here to hear me), "or can't do."  
  
Malon and I don't stop walking, she's following me stride for stride, right beside me, "Oh, but you told her to go that way. What if she dies? And, yes," she begins again, seeming to wallow in my worry, "if you aren't there and she dies, then it's your fault that you couldn't help her."  
  
I look away from Malon, she's right. It could be all my fault if she dies. If she dies then-  
  
"But, hey, what's it going to matter anyhow? You are going to reset this time, and go back to when that Squall fellow was injured, right? You're going to steal this time, these memories, thoughts, feelings-"  
  
"And by doing so I can erase the memories of their friend dying. And also save him. It's the only way-"  
  
"Of course, it's all your fault. You were the one who lost Squall's trust enough that he went and actually got himself killed, just because he didn't think that he could trust a voice in his head."  
  
"But I-!!"  
  
"And then again, this is all your fault because you wouldn't possess Squall, thus causing this huge chain reaction. And imagine, how much trouble you could of saved everyone just by going through with possessing him in the first place. And then there's the whole matter of taking him over-"   
  
"SHUT UP!" I scream, falling to my knees in the water and in the darkness. Somehow I am able to keep Din's Fire still going, but I'm not really paying that much attention to it. Since I dropped lower into the water, the liquid is now up to my chest. I sit there, on the stone floor in a huge puddle, holding myself for comfort.  
  
"Oh, but it's the truth. . .The truth can be so horrible, can't it? Why do you think that people lie to their families? To protect them from the truth. The Truth is a weapon, not a shield. The Truth is the sun of that Goddess forsaken desert that is the Realm of Righteousness and it burns everything that has ever come into the rays of it's light. You can see light, just like you can see the Truth, but the Darkness is the shield. You cannot see in the darkness, and it shields you from that damned light of the all seeing with it's lies. Does it hurt to know that? The way you've been lying to yourself is the path of Darkness, and you know it. Does it hurt, Hero?"  
  
Her words ring oddly in my head, reminding me of something from long ago. . .I shake my head, trying to clear it.  
  
"The Truth is that hideous sun. . .And you've been under it too long. . .Let it go by, and hide in the shadow, before you go mad. Before it's too late. . ." It's only now that I notice that I have yet to stand back up and Malon disappears from beside me and reforms in front of me, offering me a helping hand and I begin to reach for it but at the last second I pull back and what am I doing? What's she talking about? Why do I feel so cold?  
  
Clutching my head and shaking it, I try to make some sense out of this entire episode. I am barely aware of the water I am sitting in, but I can only hear too well the laugh of Malon, unechoing and strangely dead and flat. She falls to her knees as well, putting her ethereal hands on my shoulders, a smirk forms on my face. I can't feel her touch but I wish I could and she's so beautiful and so mysterious and so different-  
  
"Join me," she whispers, her non existent lips almost against my ear, ". . .In our insanity."   
  
And then, she stands up and walks off, fading into the dark like some forgotten breeze, her skirt billowing. I still stare at where she stood, my eyes wide and my head again in my hands. My mind races and floods with confusion, and I am unsure of anything right now. Slowly, I regain my thoughts (and try to put them back in order), and I stand up. My upper body is warm and sweaty from the effort of using the still activated Din's Fire, while the lower regions of my body are cold from the water, but I don't move, I just think about what Malon said.  
  
Heh, I find it a little funny. She was talking about the insanity of the light, and helping me to escape it by hiding in the shadows. Then later on, she was going on about joining her in 'our' insanity in the darkness. Maybe she thinks one is better than the other?  
  
What am I talking about? This is a delusion of MY MIND. SHE DOESN'T EXIST! Some deep part of me cries vehemently against that, but my logic causes me to force myself to believe it. If I am seeing a dead woman like this, then maybe I am insane.   
  
I wonder, is this what madness is like? Does someone you love or that you cared for (or maybe someone you don't even know) come and offer you the chance to 'join them' in madness? Or, is this maybe only happening to me?  
  
As I think these thoughts I come across a part in the hall where some steps lead me up and out of the water. I follow it dumbly, lost in my thoughts and my feelings. A few feet away from the stairs my knees suddenly buckle, my strength gone from using too much magic and by being crushed by so many thoughts and emotions. I absent mindedly try to catch myself, but I fail miserably (my knees just won't lock) and I jar my joints painfully against the stone floor.   
  
"Damnit Din. . ." I whisper, so weak that hardly a swear can escape my lips. My breathing has gone ragged without my noticing, and sweat pours from my brow. With my energy dying, Din's Fire (the very Goddess I cursed mere moments ago) dims and fades out completely, only flickering once or twice. Darkness descends (reminding me of what Malon said) and I shudder. Feeling too tired to move (never mind summoning Din's Fire again), I lean back against the wall and I close my eyes.  
  
I fall asleep to the far off sound of falling water. . .  
  
~*~  
  
"HOLY JUMPING JESUS!" I hear Zell yell as he tries to protect himself, but I can't look. I'm currently dodging a claw aimed for my face. My feet come out from underneath me, and I fall, with the lizard thing quickly coming down on top of me. I roll out of the way (giving the thing a good kick to the side, but it doesn't do any damage). As I regain my feet I raise my gunblade for an attack at the creature's side, but the blade just glances off of the scales.  
  
"GOD DAMNIT!" I shout, taking another slash at the creature, and again the blade does no harm. Not even when I pull the trigger. The lizard hisses in an almost mocking manner, like it's laughing at me. Then it lunges. I dodge to the side and it goes flying past me, soon turning around again and trying once more.  
  
Suddenly, like a freight train, it hits me. As the creature comes flying to me I stretch out a hand, palm outwards. I look deep within my mind, and it isn't long until I find what I want. I open my eyes with a glare and a blue light surrounds my hand for a moment, before shooting off in the direction of the enemy, now in the form of a chunk of ice. The shard, a weak ice spell (it's all I had time for), hits the lizard and the thing is punctured in the front left leg. It wails painfully, withdrawing from it's attack, backing up closer towards Zell and it's companion.  
  
"Hey, Zell?" I shout, trying to gain his attention without getting him killed. I can see him nod slightly, before he is forced to do an impressive (leave it to him to show off at a time like this) backflip out of the way of an incoming claw, "Do you have Shiva?"  
  
"No, but I could probably have her in a minute, why?" he asks, getting a good chance to give one of the lizards a good punch to the side (which he takes) but the creature does little more than cringes. The other is recovering quite quickly, but if my plan works. . .  
  
"Just do it!" I shout at him, and I can just barely see him roll his eyes, dodging another attack.  
  
"You distract them, and then I'll do it!" he says, giving the lizard a good kick to the side, "I can't call her like this!"  
  
I sigh, and I give the lizard he's fighting the good old look over. It's still going strong, lashing out at him with it's fierce jaws, several times almost getting his head. It's a little larger than the other one, and a bit more aggressive.  
  
I guess I better get to work. . .  
  
I run over to the creature and I grab it's tail. It immediately stops fighting him, and it turns around and faces me, snarling angrily. I grin at it, yanking it's tail as I start walking backwards. This causes the lizard's legs to slide against the stone flooring, and it's claws can't seem to get a grip. I look up at Zell while the creature howls in annoyance, scrambling to crawl away from me. The Chicken Wuss has got his eyes eerily blank (I wish he would just close his eyes while doing that, like everyone else) as he calls for Shiva in his mind.  
  
I continue dragging the creature backwards, doing nothing else to it (there's not much I can do to hurt it, and I don't have enough ice spells to keep these things down anyway). This is going to be so easy-  
  
A sudden weight against my back forces me to the ground, and I look up at it. The second lizard is laying on my back, pinning me to the ground. It's too heavy and I'm at too bad of an angle to just get up. I struggle as it's angered friend (it looks so much larger from this angle) stalks towards me, it's tongue flicking out and almost touching the end of my nose. Large teeth are bared at me, a mocking hiss comes from behind those large fangs.   
  
Maybe this isn't one of my better ideas. . .  
  
"Hey! OVER HERE!" All three of us turn and look at Zell, who is bouncing around on the balls of his feet while eight green orbs, each with a light yellow symbol within, form around him. A smile is blatantly obvious on his face as he begins to fade out. . .And so do I.  
  
We haven't actually gone anywhere, we've just been drawn halfway into. . .some other. . realm place. I guess that this might be where the Guardian Forces hang out, but, well, I can't be to sure of anything in this place. I can see that we are still where we were before, but now everything is a bit of a grey color and rather faded.   
  
I wonder if this is what it was like for Link when he was still sealed. . .?  
  
I can see Zell to my left through the fog like atmosphere, and he's watching the grey forms that are the lizards, looking rather relaxed. Except that he's shivering. . .As am I.  
  
It's always so cold here. . .  
  
Suddenly, only a few feet in front of where Zell is standing erupts a large icicle from the ground. It is tall, maybe six feet or so, and incased inside is a beautiful (and scantily clothed) woman. From where I am standing, I can see that her eyes are closed, and her golden blonde hair (the top covered by some blue thing, and I'm not sure whether that is like some kind of clothing or a part of her body) is entwining around her, frozen forever in such a wondrous design.  
  
Forever ends when her eyes open.   
  
She stares out from her icy prison with cold, yet caring eyes (so similar to Squall's, except for that caring bit) for a moment, before she moves and it breaks. She stretches momentarily, flexing her form, before she faces the lizards. They are watching her carefully, but she simply laughs (a wondrous sound, like falling rain yet I can hear the sound of chilly deception behind that beautiful cascade), raising both of her hands above her head. A ball of pure white light forms just above her palms (it's kinda creepy how similar that is to Link's fire spell, despite how different it really is).   
  
Her back arches and the orb increases in size until she launches the magic forward. The orb shoots from her hands and then explodes into a flash of wondrous blue-white light, and a wave of ice begins to rapidly incase the lizards, and just before their heads disappear I can hear them howl one last time (though the sound is muted slightly), and then the ice breaks and the Queen of the Frost disappears with a twirl, laughing one last time. . .  
  
Man, I love dangerous woman!  
  
The ice broke and there is no sign of the lizards. Shiva's magic must have completely consumed them. . .Though, that is not the first time I've seen that happen. . .  
  
"Hey," I say, turning towards Zell as we are brought back to the warmer (and far more colorful) realm of the living, "Now that I think of it, how did you get her to come? She never junctions with anyone but Puberty Boy."  
  
"I don't know. Maybe Squall convinced her to come? Or maybe she knows this is going to help him. . ."  
  
"Or maybe he's already dead. . ." I say, voicing both of our worries. I may act like I want to kill Squall sometimes, but he's my rival and I don't actually hate him. It's kinda just a show. . .  
  
Zell sighs, scuffing the ground with his sneakers, ". . .Ah, well, let's just go."  
  
~*~  
  
My eyes flutter open, I'm freezing cold, and my body is aching, but I'm alright. The air here (wherever 'here' is) is thick with a mist, and there's water dripping from the ceiling and onto my face. . .  
  
With a groan I sit up, leaning heavily against one arm while the other rubs feeling into my face.  
  
What happened?  
  
My sword still in hand, I try to stand up and am eventually forced to use the blade as a lever. Once I am upright, however, I find that my knees can lock, so it is possible for me to continue. . .  
  
Now where was I going again?  
  
I stand in complete darkness, bewildered. I can't remember where I was going or what-  
  
Maybe some light would help, and I could use the heat. . .  
  
I summon Din's Fire, already feeling the strain begin to rebuild. I should be able to hold it off for a while again, especially after having such a dead sleep. There should be no need to worry about my strength for a long Time.  
  
The room (or hallway, as I can see now) flares with light, causing me to squint with the sudden reintroduction of sight. I'm in a long corridor which is filled with a light mist and a thin layer of water upon the floor. In several places water drips from the ceiling, the sound being the only noise that I can hear. . .  
  
Except for the sound of a far off water falling. . .much like how a small waterfall sounds.  
  
It takes a minute of some serious thinking but I finally remember where I am and what I'm doing here, in this hallway.   
  
Maybe where that water is falling. . .Maybe that's where my ocarina is. . .  
  
It's not really MY ocarina. . .It was a gift, from the Princess. Sighing and scratching the back of my head, I do my best to fight off the memories of that Time. It's a short battle of my mind and my memory and soon I distract myself with the thoughts of what I am supposed to be doing. No Time for wandering around in my past or anything.  
  
I begin walking (rather stiffly at first) down the hallway. Like earlier, I can't be sure that I'm heading in the right direction, but if I remember correctly, I had to walk up a short flight of stairs to get out of some much deeper water, so if I run into one of those. . .  
  
I don't, and the hallways is straight with no branches or other halls, so maybe I really am going the right way. The silence eclipses me completely, and the sound of dripping water only seems to make the dead quiet all the more final. There's also the light sound of a splash every Time I move my feet, but that doesn't break up the silence either.  
  
So I continue forward, alone and cold in this semi darkness (the Din's Fire spell is providing light, but it just doesn't seem like enough). The mist continues to linger, and the minute warmth from the spell isn't helping hardly at all. Due to the fact that before this I was in waist deep water (well thigh deep until I dropped to my knees) and then I fell asleep in this hallway, I am very wet and very cold. I'm shivering, and it's taking some effort for me to keep my teeth from chattering.  
  
The darkness never seems to end and I begin to wonder if I am completely and utterly lost in this place.  
  
"You fool, you need to know where you're going before you can be lost," Malon's voice can be heard, but I can't see her. . .  
  
"Don't-" [Don't you ever shut up?] I think, switching from speaking to thought after the memories of our last conversation resurfaced. I don't want a repeat performance.  
  
"I'll shut up when you do," she replies without missing a beat. I roll my eyes, but she continues anyway, seemingly unoffended, "You know, you're close."   
  
[Oh yeah? and how do you know that?] I think, a small frown forming on my face.  
  
"You know it too. You and I both know that after this many years you don't need to see some big door with a golden lock on it to know where the end is. You don't need some map to know you're close. . .though you never really did use those things anyway, despite how much hassle Navi put you through."  
  
I don't answer, but I can't keep myself from listening. . .  
  
"You remember her name now, right? I mean, I've told you twice today alone. Of course, ungrateful bastards like you remember nothing about those who helped you."  
  
I don't reply, and soon I feel even Malon sink into an uncomfortable silence. . .She's right, we're here.  
  
The hallway opens up into a wide cavernous room with a high ceiling of at least a hundred feet. There's a small drop of a few inches upon entry into the room, and so the water is just a tiny bit higher here. The walls are not in the brick form I am so used to seeing but are actually uncarved rock with little jutting edges. One each side is a huge carved man like sculpture (about sixty, sixty five feet in height each), identically carved.   
  
They have horrible proportions when compared to a human body: the head is a little too big and a bit too squarish and there is no detail in the face - it's just sloping outward a little - the arms are long and the hands too big, as are the feet. The chest is wide and the legs are short, and the whole figure is terribly muscle bound. They are standing rather plainly, except for one arm from each which is raised in almost a greeting like fashion, as if leading deeper into the hall.   
  
And on the other side. . .is a stone pedestal, and on it's top is a small blue object. Behind it falls a waterfall into a small pool, the mist filling the air in the area with a white tint, giving it a mystical look.   
  
Like something from a fairy tale. . .  
  
Needless to say, I start running to the other side of the hall, despite the protests from my aching muscles and wounds. The sound of my feet moving through the water is audile, the only other sound than my excited breathing.  
  
I've finally found it!  
  
The sound of loose stone and something creaking makes me stop in my tracks, halfway across the room. I stop and look up, quite sure that I already know what it is. The walls where the giant men -   
  
[Golems.]  
  
- stand is crumbling, dropping stones of all sizes. The smaller rocks hit the floor with a splash, while the larger ones land with a crunch. The dust is clouding around the wall, obscuring all from view. . .  
  
And when it finally clears, the Golems are free from the walls. The walls still stand, but the Golems are no longer attached to them. At first, I start getting my hopes up, but when I see the heads of the giants move together in perfect unison to face me, I feel those same hopes dashed upon the rocks. The creaking sound from before is again present, as the Golems stiffly turn to face me, their stone faces (of course) showing no emotion.   
  
This might just be a little hard. . .   
  
Simultaneously, two large (gigantic would probably be a better word) hands come down upon me. I run forward and just barely make it out from the dangerous zone. The fists smash into the ground behind me, crushing the floor inward, creating a crater in their wake. The hands slowly recoil and the Golems raise their arms again.   
  
And again their fists come down. . .  
  
I start running again, but this Time I am forced to roll out of the way at the last second. Again there is the loud sound of stone being crushed inward, but I can't see the destruction right now - I'm quite sure it'd look similar to the first blow - I'm too busy running for my life. With such speed that I am forced to try to skid to a stop, a fist slams down in front of me. I slide on the wet floor, and I hit into the fist, but seeing how it's already landed I'm alright. . .  
  
My cuts are sure complaining though. . .  
  
I run in the opposite direction, and with the now expected creaking noise, one of the giant's feet lands down in front of me, blocking my escape. I skid to a stop and turn around again, making a dash for the door.  
  
The can't follow me in there. . .  
  
With a stride that goes over my head (why didn't it just bring down his foot and crush me? Not that I'm complaining though), one of the Golems blocks my path yet again. I stop, and take a good look all about me. One of them stands on one side, while the other stands near the door, it's foot still blocking any escape. There's no other way out of the room. . .  
  
Still carrying the flame of Din's Fire, I can feel the strain building. . .It's going to be that much harder with it. . .I summon all the strength I have left (hoping I won't need to use all of it, lest I be screwed) and I somehow manage to get the flame to float above my right shoulder instead of above my hand. It took a bit of effort to move the flame, but it wasn't too bad. . .I raise one hand and wipe the sweat from my face with the back of it.  
  
My sword is definitely not going to be of use - so I put it away - but will the bow be any better? It's the only other weapon I have right now. . .And how the Hell am I supposed to take something like that down?  
  
A loud squelching noise greets my thoughts, from somewhere near the door. I turn to look (a part of me is deathly afraid that was someone trying to enter this place who met their untimely doom), and at first I see nothing. Then I look up. The face of the Golem has 'opened' to reveal a large eye. It's whites have been replaced by a yellow (the color of bad teeth yellow), and the iris is red, and the pupil itself is a bright green. The eye rolls back in it's head, all the way back until it comes back up from the bottom. And then the creature blinks it's only eye.  
  
The slope to the face wasn't because someone was being lazy! It's because that the whole face is one eye lid!  
  
"Heh," I murmur to myself, "Tyrael, you are far to predictable. So. . .unoriginal."  
  
Then, together as one, the two Golems start towards me, the only difference between them is that one still has it's eye closed. They take one step stiffly, landing their feet and then taking another. When you look at it from a certain perspective, the amount of Time it takes them to take one step is ridiculous, but if you look at it from the perspective of how far they can go per step, then you finally see the danger in it all.  
  
I get out my bow (not that it was really in anything, just around my torso) and I quickly knock an arrow to it. I take aim, drawing back the string as far as I can, and I let it loose. The arrow flies, looking ridiculously tiny as it approaches the hulking figure, and it hits it's target dead on.   
  
The Golem falters during it's step, and I take this opportunity to knock another arrow and shoot. Again, it hits the target (who could miss something that big?) and this Time not only does the Golem falter, it releases a strange moaning sound from somewhere within itself as well. Both of it's hands race up to it's face as if to pull out the arrows or lessen the pain or something, but it's not like I had the Time for another attack. I dodge out of the way just as the foot of the other golem approaches.  
  
By now the strain is great and soon I may have to release the spell. . .It's so much harder since I am fighting as well as using Din's Fire. . .I've got to end this battle quickly.  
  
A good distance is again between me and the Golems, and I again raise my bow. . .There's not many arrows left in my quiver (the thing was fairly low when I found it), but there should be enough to-  
  
I touch the shaft of one of the arrows in the quiver, only to feel it wet and soggy. It bends too easily in my hands. . .It's too easily bent, to wet to fly right, too heavy now. . .it's become completely useless. . .That has got to be some of the worst wood (oldest wood) I have ever seen an arrow used for. . .And now that it's too wet. . .   
  
I just had to fall asleep in a puddle, didn't I?  
  
I sigh, again running as a Golem starts to come near. What the Hell am I supposed to do now? Since my first couple of arrows were fine, I think only a few got wet, but how many and is it enough?  
  
It will be enough if I use Din's Fire. . .  
  
I throw away the destroyed arrow, and I take another. This one is also ruined, so I search my quiver. I've got around five arrows left, and finally, I find one that is not wet. I take it out, and put it to the string. For one second I think about what will happen with me having two spells going at once. Will I be too weakened to fight? Or can I remain strong?  
  
All that is left is to let the arrow fly. . .  
  
I release the string, and with a snap the arrow shoots towards the creature. I start searching in my mind for that hidden (and dying power), and as soon as I find it I can hear the arrow break into flames (and I can feel it too, I can feel every ounce of energy it steals from me). I open my eyes to watch with a vague exhaustion as the ball of fire heads towards and into the Golem's eye, and upon impact it explodes into a wave of flame. The Golem's eye actually shatters into thousands of pieces like glass that fall to the ground beneath (I am so glad I am not close to him), revealing the empty black socket behind as the fire inside dies out.  
  
The Golem, now still and lifeless, begins to topple over, and despite my greatest prayers (those women never listen anyway), it falls over and hits the ground with the force of an earthquake. I do my best to keep on my feet, but with the ground shaking so badly, I can't help but fall back on to my ass.  
  
Even the other Golem seems fazed by it's friend falling over.  
  
I use that opportunity to get up and move away from it, my bow in one hand while my other searches for the next arrow. I find a good one right away and I knock it to the bow. I grab at the string, and then I realize with such a sudden ferocity that I may be doomed where I stand.  
  
The string broke. . .  
  
I stare down at the bow in horror. I can't seem to contemplate anything else. . .How am I supposed to beat this thing now? I'm so close. . .Too close to die now. . .  
  
I jump back in surprise as the fist of the Golem comes down close enough to me that it took the bow right out of my hands, crushing it on the floor. I stare at my empty hand, and at the hand of the Golem with disbelief.  
  
Today is not my day. . .   
  
There's got to be another way to defeat it. . .I look again at it's hand, which is still resting on the ground.   
  
Maybe if I can get close enough to that eye my sword can be of use again. . .  
  
I leap on to the hand of the Golem just as it starts to pull up again with a creak. I am able to grab on to the thumb, and I hold on as tightly as I can. The Golem lifts up it's limb, not seeming to notice that I'm still hanging on. I do my best to get on top of the hand as it begins to get higher off the ground, but it's getting harder. The stone is rather smooth, and as soon as I get to the wrist, I've got the rest of the arm to climb up.  
  
I struggle for a hand hold - anything! - as the arm I'm crawling up begins to straighten. I begin the awful process of slipping, my arms and legs unable to grab on to anything as the playing field starts to get severely vertical. Finally, my legs slip loose, and I start to slide, pulled down by the weight of my own body.  
  
Vain panic (it's not going to do me any good) ripples throughout my mind, as my hands claw at the surface of the stone, finding nothing. I can feel my body fall faster now, falling fast enough that my body is beginning to fall away from the stone. . .  
  
And pushed by something I do not know, the panic fades and I reach for my sword and I draw it.  
  
Then I proceed to thrust the sword into the rock skin of the Golem, piercing it.   
  
And I come to a stop.  
  
I hang limply from the Golem's arm like some rag doll, my sword in just far enough that I don't fall a splatter on the ground. Breathing deep (that was most definitely NOT fun), I slowly try to come back up and against the arm, and it's a long time until I succeed. And when I do, well, what now?  
  
Now what ever gave me the hairbrained idea that I COULD climb up the arm of a giant stone Golem?  
  
I sigh, before straddling the arm of the giant (it's a little odd, since the arm is still completely vertical), and jerking my sword back out and trying not to lose my balance. I quickly jam the thing back in, a little higher up before I can fall. Then I pull myself up a bit, and I put the toe of one boot into the little foot hold I made just moments before.  
  
This is going to take a long time. . .  
  
I allow myself to rest for a moment, as Din's Fire is draining away at my strength like a little leech. I still hold on, of course, but I slump against the arm a little.  
  
Maybe a little more than a little. . .  
  
With my eyes closed and my body quite relaxed, it isn't until I hear an ominous creaking noise do I realize that the Golem must be doing something. . .  
  
I look to my left (I'm on it's right arm, I realize) to see a fist aimed right at me. My eyes widen in horror. . .How am I supposed to dodge that?!  
  
It's fist comes at me, that creaking groaning sound apparent again. It's either drop or get hit. . .Maybe I can go up?  
  
I swing, using the sword like I would a branch. Once I finally get enough momentum, I am able to swing up and over and on to my blade. I find out quickly that I've got this thing embedded deep enough to hold up my weight, which is a blessing if I've ever heard of one. Hmm. . .Maybe those ladies do listen. . .  
  
The fist strikes into the stone from where I hung mere moments ago, cracking the stone, which completely breaks and falls to the ground with a heavy crash. The Golem itself doesn't seem to notice, simply beginning to withdraw it's hand. I use this opportunity to leap off my sword (of course, I pull it out with me, and luckily it doesn't get stuck) and on to the Golem's other arm. It's still bringing it's other arm for a second punch, so it's still fairly flat. The surface is slippery and uneven, so it's no surprise when my legs split and I fall on my lower regions.  
  
But it still hurts like A BITCH. . .  
  
Barely able to bite back a cry of pain, I stumble to my legs, using my trusty weapon (good thing Seifer was able to buy this for me) as a cane. A few deep breaths later, it doesn't hurt quite as much, but let's just say I can't feel any of my other wounds right now. Eventually, I can walk again without the sword's help, but it'd be best if I did use it. It's a little easier to keep my balance.  
  
It seems that I've got quite a bit of luck. Now that the Golem's other arm is broken, it can't use it to attack me, and this thing can't move fast enough to shake me off, so it looks like I might be able to survive this. . .As long as I don't fall. . .  
  
I near the elbow and upper arm of the Golem just as it's becoming straight again. The Golem had canceled it's last attack once I moved out of the way completely. Now I can feel the arm losing any value to me as a walkway, but luckily the upper arm of the creature makes as a good path, at least it does once you reach the overly large muscles. I reach out and grab one of the ledges (after putting my sword away), a bit of climbing and scrambling later, I've made it up to the creature's shoulders, which are easy to run across (though the fact that the whole thing is slicked with that mist makes it that much harder).  
  
Finally, I reach the face, and by crawling up on the stone wrinkles surrounding the eye, I get up close enough to strike, and almost as if to please my wishes, this Golem finally opens it's eye, staring at me oddly. I raise my sword with my right hand (my left is holding on for dear life) and I strike the eye. The force I hit it with chips the glass like organ, and the recoil from my attack almost throws me off, making me loose balance.  
  
For one second, as my chest arches up and I can see the ground beneath me, barely able to hold on I think that this is the end, my life ends here and I never got a chance to get whatever it is that I wished to do done and I never even-  
  
Suddenly my face is again flat against the stone of the Golem - he probably fell back from the attack and I fell with him, and on to him. I slowly gather my wits, happy again to realize that I'm not dead and somehow I was able to keep a hold of my sword. Nothing short of miraclous, if you ask me.   
  
I strike that eye, again and again, each Time the tip goes in a little farther (and the Golem stumbles, blindly swiping near it's face with it's remaining arm), but at this rate I will fall before I take out that eye. So I strike it again.  
  
Again. . .  
  
And again. . .   
  
Once more. . .  
  
Finally, gasping for air (I'm no longer sure whether I should blame Din's Fire or not), I collapse against the face of the Golem, sweating profusely. At least I don't feel cold. . .  
  
I take a look at my handy work, there's now a fair sized hole in the thing's eye, and though it seems to annoy and hurt the Golem, nothing else seems to happen. I know from that experience with the shooting of the fire arrow that it takes a lot more to hurt it than this. . .What can I do to it?  
  
"Do you not have any brains or something?" I can hear Malon say, and she appears to my right, floating right in front of the eye. She leans forward, studying the hole I made. She raps the glass with her knuckles, but there is no sound, and the Golem does not react. Or, actually, it is trying to react, slowly swinging it's arm about it's face, but I think it's target is me, not her. She stops and looks at me, just as one of the Golem's fingers goes right through her, but she doesn't disappear, or even ripple, "What killed the first one?"   
  
Before I can answer, she interrupts me, "That's right, a fire arrow. Now you are out of arrows, so what other fire spell can you use?" I open my mouth yet again and she continues, answering her own question, "Din's Fire. So, you've got a nice sized hole in the thing's eye, and what are you going to do about it?" I frown and think.  
  
Suddenly it hits me, what she wants me to do, "Wait wait wait! Hold on here!" I say, hardly noticing that I am talking to her out loud, "I can't actually cast Din's Fire! No, I can't! Don't even try to tell me otherwise: I've tried it." I scowl at her, not sure of what she has planned.  
  
She sighs, "Yes you can. If you-" I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, the right one, interrupting Malon. Her eyes darken momentarily, but she continues anyway, "-If you maybe tried something like, oh, I don't know, summoning more than one Din's Fire in there, maybe it would expand? But what do I know?" she says with a shrug and a knowing smile, "but it's a lot better than what you have been doing."  
  
"What does that mean?" I ask but it's too late, she's gone, vanished into thin air. I shake my head and turn back towards the eye of the Golem. There's a bit of a breeze as it's hand blows past me, barely missing. I walk carefully over, along the bottom ridge of the eyelid, until I stand directly before the hole I have made.   
  
And then I stick my hand in the hole.   
  
There's more than enough room (and the Golem quivers slightly with the entry), and it feels. . .like I've stuck my hand in mud. No, not quite mud. More like. . .hmm. . .I am sure this is how liquid metal would feel, but hotter. I start to try and summon a Din's Fire to my hand. It's quite hard - me, standing on the edge of a Golem's eye, trying to call forth a spell of fire when I've been rather weak in the magical department, that and I've already got a spell floating over my shoulder. . .  
  
Finally, a flicker of warmth can be felt near my hands, and I can feel the spell pass through my being and into the space around my hand. Not really sure how to do the next part, I summon (and also almost fall down) another spell, and I force into the area around my hands.   
  
Nothing happens. . .Except for the sweat rebuilding on my brow. . .which I can't wipe off because if I do, I'll fall off.  
  
Breathing heavily, I ponder my choices. The Golem seems almost unknowing even of my presence anymore. I'm not sure if maybe it's because it can't see me. . .but then again, it had it's eye closed earlier and it couldn't see me then. . .  
  
Whatever the reason, I can't think of a solution to my problem. . .Maybe if I were to combine the two?  
  
I pull back both of the orbs at the same Time, and as I do, I can feel. . .something different. But nothing else happens. They kind of combine together into one. . .I can feel that through the oozing, cool eye of the Golem, but nothing else. . .And suddenly, the heat builds up in my hands and with a cry of surprise I jerk back and almost fall, but I catch myself.   
  
Just in Time to experience the explosion and the last thing I see is the colorful eye exploding. . .   
  
The earth shattering blast emanates from the eye, blowing out the glasslike shards on to my face and hands and the rest of my body and it singes me. I can't see (oh please say my eyes are okay) but I can feel many sharp pains cover my skin, and it doesn't take a genius to realize I'm cut. . .  
  
My world of darkness is shaken again, and this Time I can feel myself falling and after a few painfully tense seconds there's a immense crash. And again my dark world is rocked, almost throwing me off the Golem. Actually, gravity itself seems to have shifted, and unless I have somehow managed to change the laws of the universe, that second 'explosion' may have been the Golem falling down.  
  
I lay against the thing, dead, as I expect it to be, but I can't find the strength to move just yet. I will allow myself to rest. . .If only for a moment. . .  
  
I lay there for what could very well be hours when finally I decide it's Time to go. Actually, I'm surprised that Malon hasn't popped by and started complaining about me stalling or something. . .I push myself up and off of the stone structure, wincing at the pain. I still can't see, but I soon rectify that by rubbing my eyes clear of the soot and debris that filled them.  
  
The Golem itself is on the floor, and I rest in the crevice of it's neck. It is in complete shambles: there's ruin and rubble surrounding the majority of it's body, and now it sits in a bit of a self-inflicted crater, almost like a mock grave. I am covered in various places by those glass shards, many of them stick into my skin. Somehow, my face was spared, and there's nothing too serious. . .Just a few in my arms and my legs and one deep in my right shoulder. I pull them all out, before I carefully slid off the side of it's neck, landing hard on the floor.   
  
That could have been a lot worse, like, what if the Golem had fallen the other way?  
  
With my tiny orb of Din's Fire still blazing, I walk over towards the pedestal on the far side, holding several of my injuries together, mainly the one in my shoulder. The light blue stone of the deis is rather plain, and the whole thing is about four feet high. There are no carvings, nothing that could warn anyone about the object's power. . . Behind the pedestal is a circular pool of water, with a small waterfall pouring into it from somewhere high above. A light mist springs up from the water's surface, soaking my face and arms as I approach it.  
  
The ocarina. . .I look at it's perfect symmetry. . .It's blue color, the color of Time. . .The little ivory band around the mouthpiece of the instrument, carved with the symbol of the royal family of Hyrule. Which is a carving of the Triforce with twin white wings unfolded beneath. The actual carving of the Triforce itself is gold (painted or plated I don't know) and it shines like the sun. . .  
  
I pick up the instrument in my hand (being careful not to use the hand that's keeping my shoulder wound together), feeling it's light weight in my hands, remembering the way things used to be. . .When I came to the world of Sanctuary, things were so much different. So much more violence and bloodshed then what I had grown up with. . .It was like someone finally opened my eyes and showed me the truth. . .  
  
I can remember the way, late at night, I would sit around the tiny campfire I made and I would play the ocarina. No real special song (though I did try Saria's song a few Times), just anything that sounded nice. . .That kept my worries and fears at bay. . .  
  
A hero being afraid? Sounds rather foolish to me. Maybe I was only a hero when I still held the Triforce of Courage. . .I can still remember the feeling of being ripped apart when that was removed from me. . .I shudder with the thought, subconsciously gripping the ocarina tighter in my hands.  
  
I look back towards the rest of the room. . .I look at the rubble from the two fallen Golems, the craters their bodies created and the glass like shards from their eyes that lay all about their bodies. The room carries now an eerie silence. . .like everything in here is dead. . .  
  
And, maybe everything is. . .  
  
I raise the ocarina to my lips, closing my eyes. The tune for the Song of Time begins drifting from the instrument as my fingers move over the holes with such skill that can only be gained through years of practice. The haunting melody plays through the air, it's unearthly sound reverberates through the cavernous room like the song of Death itself.  
  
And I guess, Time and Death are similar, if not the same. Death kills Life, and Time takes it away. . .  
  
At the sound of many feet on the stone floor, I look up, and I watch as the others finally make it to this room. They all stare at the Golems and myself with awe in their eyes, but I don't stop playing. Not to explain, or anything. The notes echo strangely through the hall, and they seem almost entranced by the music.  
  
Again I close my eyes. . .Not wishing to look at them. . .  
  
Why does this feel like such a betrayal?  
  
The music begins to get louder, and my world fades into blue as I become lost in Time itself. . .  
  
And all I leave behind is the faint echo of dying music. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Okays, sorry you guys, about a number of things. First of all, I'd like to apologize for having to cut off the last chapter and splitting it into two, but it was getting just so frickin long. And sorry about it still being so long.   
  
I hope the battle scenes here was at least satisfactory. I kinda like it, but if it wasn't good enough,   
  
Yay! We're almost at my second goal point!! [smiles] my first goal was 20 reviews, and my second is 50. After that it gets like to a hundred and such. . .  
  
Oh, yea, and I have nothing against Gays. That comment Zell made about them was just what he thinks, I suppose. . .a bit of character for him. And how many people about their age do you know who don't make gay jokes? It was not an offense to anyone, k? 


	16. Chapter XV Turn Back the Clock

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XV - Turn Back the Clock  
  
~*~  
  
I'm falling. . .  
  
There is nothing but white. . .All around me, a sea of white and I'm falling. . .Lost in that sea. . .Drowning in a empty void. . .  
  
I'm all alone, nothing else is near me in that abyss. . .but still I fall, head first, to some unknown depth. . .There was no top to this place, and I am sure there never was a bottom. . .Somehow, I know. . .I don't know how I know that, but I do. . .  
  
I fall freely at first for there is nothing to slow me, and for some reason I don't know (remember?) I don't fight against the fall, I just drop. But then, slowly, a resistance forms against me, gradually forcing my still falling body to come to a stop. I can feel many ghost-like touches on my body, righting me as I come to a halt. . .Carressing gently. . .lovingly, as though I were. . .family. . .taking away some of the pain of my near forgotten wounds and weariness. . .  
  
And then those touches are gone (though the feeling lingers) again and I am once more lost in the abyss, no longer falling but standing on nothing, staring out into the vast abysm. . .  
  
When the first image passes by me, it lingers long enough for me to make it out, to remember it. . .  
  
Large stone gates out on a field across a small area of water. The green grass shivers with the slight wind, bending to it's will. The sky is blue and bright, hardly any clouds are in sight. There's a wooden drawbridge, laying between the caste and the field, above the moat. Various people walk across the bridge, many of them chatting and laughing as they walk to unknown destinations. Guards can just be seen patrolling the battlements, dressed in shining armor, armed with spears. Many of them carry some insigna of the kingdom they guard, but those symbols cannot be properly seen at such a distance.   
  
This is. . .This is Hyrule castle. . .The first Time I saw it. . .  
  
And my world spins. . .  
  
The image blurs by me, and once it's out of the way I can see more coming. Many of them pass me by too quickly, their colors intertwining to become a slivery blue, but I can just make out the occasional one. . .  
  
A giant lizard stares down, it's gaping maw lined with hundreds of teeth, some bigger than a full grown man. . .It roars viciously, the sound muted through the vision. . .And then it charges. . .The King Dodongo. . .  
  
The image melts into thin air. . .passing me by. . .  
  
Another image. A large white hall made from beautiful marble, high cathedral like ceilings. . .A red carpet, bordered with gold designs leading to an altar on the far side of the room, made with an onyx top with three indents. Behind that on a raised platform is a large stone wall, and what appears to be a door, etched with a figure of a sun. . .There is also a symbol of the Triforce above the door. . .  
  
My observations during my first visit to the Temple of Time. . .  
  
And the world shifts. . .  
  
A figure. . .Walking out of that same Temple. . .carrying the Master Sword and a shield on his arm. . .A figure drops down behind him, and after a second's hesitation, he spins about, sword drawn. . .  
  
When I first met Sheik. . .and the day I became the Hero of Time. . .  
  
The picture disintegrates. . .Breaking down into slivery tendrils before continuing - wrapping, entwining - to rejoin the flow. . .  
  
The red eyed moon, glaring down, seeming to single me out. . .sneering at me, as if blaming me for being too slow every Time. . .too slow to fix everything in three days. . .  
  
. . .Dissolves. . .  
  
A large serpentine like monster stares down at a lone warrior before it, it's scarlet scales appearing to be on fire, while it's yellow eyes (burning like embers) glow in the light of the cavern. . .It's black claws are raised. . .Yellow teeth gleeming. . .  
  
Diablo. . .  
  
. . .Disappears. . .  
  
Several robed people. . .some carrying torches. . .push me against something cold and flat. . .I feel funny, almost like I'm drugged. . .Another person walks in, much taller than the rest, dressed in a bright (glowing?) gold robe, trailed by white shining ribbon like wings. . .almost like shining tenticles, of some sort. . .Each tenticle in the wings is flat and insubstantial, spectral. . .I can't see his face. . .It's too well hidden in the shadows of his hood. . .He has something small, something blue in his hand. . .And he raises it, as if to strike me. . .  
  
Tyrael, sealing me. . .  
  
The image fades just like the others, once again becoming apart of the swirling silver stream, shocked with blue tendrils, that surrounds me. I'm not sure what to do. . .I know that when using the ocarina, I am supposed to use my will to command the Stream of Time to take me where I want to go. . .But something's not right. . .It's never happened this way before. . .  
  
That, and something's missing. . .  
  
As if my thought alone summoned it, I can hear the clinking of something hitting the ground. I turn around, that silver blue stream still passing me by, like a rock in a river, to see a small blue object on the ground. . .It isn't my ocarina, that is still in my hands. . .  
  
I walk towards it, ignoring all the Time flowing past me. There's at least a good five hundred years to travel through yet, so I've got Time. . .  
  
Especially when I have the Ocarina of Time. . .  
  
I bend over and pick up the object. . .A small blue crystal, cylindrical in shape except for it's pointed tips. . .I can see the waves of the ocean in this stone. . .In my soul stone.  
  
I wonder how it got here?  
  
I put it in a small compartment in my belt, closing it up tightly. I forgot about that once already, and I don't want it to end up in the wrong hands. . .I'll have to get a string or something for it. . .  
  
I look back to the stream. . .I guess I should try to do something, otherwise who knows where (or when) I will end up?  
  
"Stop," I say, but the stream doesn't change or slow down, it just keeps going, "STOP!"  
  
The flow seems to grudgingly obey my command, the stream stopping entirely. . .completely frozen in place, the sliver of the flow surrounding (encasing) the various small images of Time, shocked with blue tendrils. . .I can't tell exactly where it has stopped. . .And if I start it back up, I could end up going to far. . .  
  
And then I could always use the ocarina again. . .  
  
But hopefully once will be enough. . .  
  
Maybe another verbal command will do the trick?  
  
"Uh," I begin, staring out through the wide expanse before me, "Take me. . .Take me to the battle with the Afflicted! The one where Squall was injured!" I say, and nothing happens. . .I am about ready to speak again, taking a step forward, when Time finally starts again.  
  
The stream comes rushing at me, and within moments I have thousands upon thousands of choices of exactly when during that Time period I would like to appear. I can choose the exact fraction of a second on when I want to show up and help them. . .  
  
The ocarina works in strange ways. It used to be that I could just use it and go back however far I wished, and I would appear where I was during that Time. For example, when in Termina, I would reset it back three days (any more would just be a waste of my Time, as I would have to get there all over again) and I would appear at the same spot every Time, just in front of the Clock Tower.  
  
Now, however, it is a different matter. This whole falling into an abyss and commanding the Time to stop has never happened before, and I don't want to mess this up. I want to go back to just before the battle, so I can fight the creature before the SeeD's start asking questions. . .but that also means that I'll have to go back to the Time where I was in Squall (not that I can do it any other way), so I don't know how that's going to turn out. . .  
  
Heh, it will probably be pretty painfull. . .  
  
I need to make another decision. . .I close my eyes, and try my best to remember the few minutes before Squall was hurt so bad. . .  
  
////  
  
[Squall? I think you should head back.]   
  
(Why?)   
  
[I just got a really bad feeling and I'm worried about them.]   
  
(. . .)   
  
So Squall continues forward, ignoring me completely, and not stopping or continuing back until we can hear the blood curdling scream from behind us several minutes later. He runs back towards the trainees, cursing himself and me (mostly me) as he runs.  
  
(Damn you for being right. . .)  
  
\\\\  
  
[No,] I think, opening my eyes again, [not quite far enough. . .] Looking about, I can almost feel the annoyance (as if the Stream of Time could have such a thing) of the Flow with me, almost as if it were a living creature. . .Maybe it is. I shake my head, and try again. . .There's got to be some Time that will work just right. . .  
  
Come on, remember. . .  
  
////  
  
[Stop! Wait till it can't see! Please, listen to me!]  
  
Squall shakes his head slightly and continues approaching the creature, doing his best to avoid listening to me. It's former eye is oozing blood and other liquids down it's snout and off the side of it's face. It stops, neither attacking or defending against the SeeDs and trainees that assail it constantly and just seems to wait for us. It seems almost to care about no one else, as if Squall is it's sole target.   
  
Squall may be thinking about that as well, but with the way he's nearing that creature, he won't get a chance to finish those thoughts.  
  
With a shout, Squall closes the final distance and prepares his strike. Swinging the gunblade, he's attacking the monster, and is obviously surprised when it's claw begins moving faster than I know his eyes can properly see, catching him off guard. I have to admit though, he is thinking quickly, leaning as far backwards as he can, and the talons of the beast miss him by scant inches. He quickly straightens himself, again surprised as a powerful blow cuts into his back. Squall's eyes open wide in surprise.   
  
And he feels the immense pain of huge claws ripping through his back. . .  
  
\\\\  
  
Surrounded by a slivery blue swirling light, blowing against my hair and clothes lightly, as if it were it's own kind of wind, I can feel myself being drawn back into the past, the ocarina still in hand. The past becomes the present as I can feel reality distort around me, present becoming an untrue future. . .Something that will hopefully never have to happen again. . .I will still remember it all, and I will be the only one who can do so. . .They'll never remember, not without living it anew. . .  
  
I can feel the stream pulling me, back to the Time when Squall's days were still unnumbered. . .  
  
Then again, from the instant we are born, our days are numbered. . .  
  
Whiteness surounds me, and I feel our immense pain. . .  
  
~*~  
  
"Irvine, Quistis! Take out it's eyes!" Squall shouts as he runs towards the monster and draws his gunblade, slicing it upwards over the creature's side. I watch him as he pulls the trigger while the blade is still in the monster's hide, eliciting a loud scream from the beast. It takes me a moment, but I heard his orders, and I can see that Irvine has as well. We will take out it's eyes, as best we can.  
  
I stand not too far from the beast, and I watch it as it begins turning it's massive head towards Squall, it's mouth open and ready.   
  
I've got to do something!  
  
I give my whip a slight, quick flip backwards so that it is in position, and then I throw it forwards, praying that I'll at least distract the creature. My aim is for his face, but at the sound of the whip beginning to cut through the air, the mighty beast turns it's head in my direction, just in time to get a large portion of the tail of my whip right in it's eye.  
  
And when I jerk the weapon back. . .   
  
The whip crack snaps through the air, and I can see that I have indeed hit my target. . .The eye of the creature pops with a squish, spraying down it's snout. The thing begins clawing at it's face in an attempt to stop the bleeding (or the pain) but instead injures itself with it's own claws.   
  
I find myself smirking at this creature's stupidity, but that smile falls off my face as I see Squall running towards the monster. I watch with horror, as he charges the thing head on (is he insane?), barely dodging a blast of some form of magic which hits the ground, creating a scorched patch in the grass. Squall doesn't even stop, he just continues. . .though there is a bit of a confused look on his face. . .  
  
Suddenly, something moves away from (almost looks like OUT of Squall) and off to the side somewhere in a sudden flash of light, but I don't pay it any attention. . .I only watch with horror as large claws rake down Squall's back, sending him flying like a rag doll. . .  
  
Unable to hold back my thoughts and feelings, I run over to see if he's alright. . .  
  
He better be.  
  
~*~  
  
I am suddenly torn away and out of Squall, the strength of our separation tossing me to the side. I hit the ground hard with a roll, and I look up just in Time to see Squall get a set of claw marks down his back. Now it's his turn to go flying to the side, off to the beast's right. I can see Quistis go off after him, while the others keep fighting (though the worry is visible on their faces).  
  
I lay on the grass for a moment, relishing the coolness of it against my burning hot body. . .The cool of the wind soothes my sores and cuts, making me wish I never have to move again, but I'm going to have to otherwise Squall is going to suffer the same fate as last Time. . .  
  
I stumble to my feet, putting the ocarina away in the pouch with my soul stone. I can't afford to lose either one. . .  
  
I look back at the battle field, not much has changed. . .Not yet, but it will soon if I don't do something. I quickly draw my sword, running into the fray, despite the pleads my cuts (many of them reopened) are giving me. The weapon in my hand, I charge over the the few feet between me and the Afflicted, and I can see that the SeeDs and the cadets take some steps back (and Quistis is hauling Squall away from the danger). I for the most part ignore all of this, finally nearing the creature.   
  
The creature glances over at me, and after a second's hesitation, it turns and prepares for my arrival. I can see one clawed arm of it's ready to strike, and so I, in my own turn, begin preparing. . .I'm going to have to be quick to kill this thing without sustaining any serious injury. . .But unlike the SeeDs, I do believe that my sword has the capablity to cut through that hide. . .  
  
The logical side of me fades, a normal part of the few seconds before a battle. . .It disappears into the depths of my mind, and I find myself all the more willing, more eager for those tense few moments where Death rears it's head. . .  
  
And where I can be it's master. . .  
  
The Judge of Death.  
  
I smirk.  
  
The Affliced swipes it's claws at a diagonal upwards, and I duck underneath, continuing forward. I am about to slash the thing, now being too close for it to swipe at me. However, when I end up staring into the dark abyss that is it's jaws, I know that it's Time to pull back.   
  
Or, rather, under.   
  
I roll under the belly of the beast, taking one from Seifer's book as I stop halfway underneath. The thing smells like decaying shit and who knows whatelse, but that stench is about to get a Hell of a lot worse. I raise my sword, the tip against the underbelly of the beast, and I plunge it upwards. The Afflicted did not have nearly enough Time to get away, never mind figure out what I was doing. Now, the thing wails in utter agony while it's blood leaks down on to me, all over my face and my shoulders. . .  
  
It smells like shit too. . .  
  
I raise a hand and I wipe off as much of the stuff as I can, probably doing a better job of smearing it rather than cleaning, but at least I got some of it off. With a strong yank, I pull out my blade and roll off out of the way of the oncoming flood of blood and even a bit of guts. . .But probably not enough to kill this thing. These creatures can take quite a beating. . .  
  
Once I removed the blade, the thing gives an awful wail again, before whipping around to face me. I vaguely notice that the cadets and even the SeeDs are looking at me with something like awe in their eyes, but I shrug it off. I've got a monster to fight.  
  
The Afflicted, enraged, charges at me, snarling and snapping. I can see the trails of blood dripping from it's stomach, but I think it's in too much of a rage to really care. Good, neither do I.  
  
It's claws are ready, and once that last distance is closed it lunges the last bit. Talons are upon me, but instead of a head on attempt, I jump to the side and do my best to avoid the barage of attacks that rain down upon me. The claws are in motion, flying at me, trying to rip me limb from limb. . .  
  
Isn't this exactly what I told Squall NOT to do?  
  
I shake my head and lean back as a taloned hand comes suprisingly close to taking off the first few layers of my face. Another comes from above me, and I simply take the easy way out by rolling away from the front of the hideous being. I manage to maneuver around to it's side, my ribs slightly knicked, as is my left cheek, but elsewise, I'm fine.   
  
I run by the body of the Afflicted, it's left flank, and I of course decide to do some damage along the way. . .I stab the end of sword - [The pointy end,] my logical part thinks briefly, amusing itself with memories I can't seem to completely recall - into the side of the monster, running past it, dragging the sword all the way. After another gut wrenching howl, I reach the hindquarters of the Afflicted, and I withdraw my weapon with a twist, causing even more screams. Still the beast trys to turn and face me, spinning about quickly and charging. I was still running past the creature, but once I notice it's oncoming attack, I abruptly change directions, sliding as I turn.  
  
And then it's back at the beast I go.  
  
The thing comes running at me, snarling as it takes it's lumbering steps. It has no grace as it charges, sauntering over to me like some lame animal. I practically fly over the ground, feeling myself fall into the rythm that is this battle.   
  
As I near, the beast raises it's talons, slashing them down upon me. The first one comes down, and I dodge by taking a step to the left, out of the way. The Afflicted snarls loudly, pulling back that first claw into it's attacking position while it strikes with the other. At first I begin taking the ritual step out of the way, when I realize something.   
  
Instead of avoiding the attack, I go closer.  
  
I jump up and on to the first claw, startling the creature. With it's second claw it tries to change it's attack and strike at me, but I leap from the top of the first claw and on to the incoming second one. Now, I am at face height with the beast, and it of course attempts to bite me, but I use that oppourtunity to leap on to it's face. I run up it's snout, swinging around the large horns. The Afflicted roars in annoyance, at first trying to swipe at me, and then attempting to buck me off, but I manage to last.   
  
I reach it's neck, and again abruptly turning, I stop and stab my weapon down into the tender flesh behind the base of the head. Well, maybe the skin there isn't tender, but it is rather boneless, and had I tried this same maneuver on the skull, I would have hit bone and failed to pierce any farther. However, since I chose this spot, the blade goes down into the neck and with a squish, I can feel it rip through the spinal cord. The tip comes out of the other side of the neck, and the beast rears up (me still attached to it) into the air on it's hindlegs, it's clawed hands going for it's throat.   
  
As it rises to try and stop it's own death, I can hear a snap and an arrow embedds itself into the creature's remaining eye (causing a nice little explosion of blood). The Afflicted screams loudly, trying to stop the bloodflow errupting from it's neck. It doesn't work, however, and in a rather dramatic fashion, the beast collapses on it side (almost crushing me in the process), on hand at it's throat, it's long tongue laying lifeless on the ground. I speedily withdraw my sword, and I get out of the way, just in Time to avoid certain death as the Afflicted shifts in it's endless sleep, rolling on to it's back. I stand on the chest of the large thing, looking at it. . .They all look this way when they die. . .  
  
Suddenly rough hands are upon me, jerking me off of the creature (which several students have moved towards, checking to see if it is dead). I'm hauled to the ground and promptly set down on my ass, guarded by two SeeDs and a cadet (Seifer and Zell and Irvine, in other words). I can see it in their eyes that they want to go and check on Squall, but Quistis, Selphie, and Rinoa are taking care of that.  
  
I blink.  
  
I didn't notice Rinoa arriving. . .Wasn't she with her father?  
  
Maybe Selphie went and got her like she did last Time, and they just arrived.  
  
Din. . .She looks so worried. . .  
  
I can see her cast several spells on Squall's form (he's not moving, but I'm not sure if he's unconscious, I'm too far away and I can't see his face). The magic surrounds the Commander with a bright light, an aura of sorts, before disappearing. She repeats this several Times, finally falling to her knees and holding him close.  
  
Don't tell me he's dead. . .Last Time he sustained less damage and lasted longer. . .  
  
My fears are eased as I see him return her worried hug, somewhat weakly. I have hardly enough Time to breath a sigh of relief before I am forced to my feet by my self appointed guards, my hands behind my back. They bind them with something cold. . .metal most likely, and Seifer pushes me forward, causing me to stumble. I fall to my knees with a hiss, silently cursing everything I have ever held sacred. The back of my calf is throbbing, the spot where a Fallen had earlier managed to stab me. He didn't do much damage, but telling from the way I'm feeling, I think I may have managed to rip it open further.  
  
My guards don't care about any of the aches that bother me, as Seifer pulls me to my feet by my hair.   
  
"Ow! Hey, watch it!" I hiss at him, gritting my teeth against the pain. Not so much the pain from him lifting me off my knees that way (though that did hurt) but more from my other wounds. I look at him to notice that his usual smirk is missing, replaced by an unusal seriousness in his eyes.  
  
"Shut up and move! The Instructor wants to talk to you."   
  
I groan inwardly, wondering whether I should try to get out of this here and now, but suddenly I feel the barrel of Irvine's weapon poking into my back. I take a step forwards, and I get another shove from behind (from Zell this Time, I think) as I am a little slow to take my next one. After that, I walk rather obediantly to where the girls stand watch over Squall; Quistis on the 'phone' (that's what those things are called, right? I can't remember), Selphie has found a blanket for Squall, as well as a pillow to keep him warm until they can move him properly. Rinoa is just lying beside him, her head on his chest, one of her hands idly playing with the fur on his collar. He is still awake, but his eyes are deeply hazed in pain, and it wouldn't surprise me if he goes out of it soon. As we near, Selphie sits back on her feet from her kneeling position, and Quistis finishes with the phone, closing it up and handing it to the small brunette.   
  
"We saw you fight the creature," Quistis begins, looking at me and I nod my head slightly, to show that I am listening (I think cooperating is in my best interests right now), "how did you beat it? Who are you, where do you come from?" She's trying hard but I can tell she's having a hard Time keeping up her diplomatic side, "What are you exactly? Who sent you? Answer!"   
  
"For one thing," I say, giving my head a little toss to get rid of the blood-slicked bangs that are hanging down into my eyes, but it doesn't work and more hair falls in front of my face. I wonder vaguely just how bloody and rugged I look, "impatience doesn't suit you." She's slightly taken aback by this, but I continue anyway, "And as for who I am, I am Link. I am an-"  
  
". . .L-Link?"   
  
We all turn to face the owner of the groggy voice, who is obviously Squall, trying to sit up and failing miserably. Those claw marks must have done a number on him, "Are you. . .really Link?"  
  
I nod my head, and I can do no more than watch as he sinks back to the ground, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. He slumps and Rinoa catches him quickly, laying him down carefully. . .I can see it in her eyes, how scared she is. . .  
  
Quistis and the others turn back their attentions to me, and Seifer gives me a tiny (yeah, right) shake to bring my attention back to them. I nearly stumble again, but I catch myself quickly.   
  
"So, you two know each other?" Quistis asks, crossing her arms in front of her body. I nod.  
  
"Well, sorta," if I could, I'd probably be scratching the back of my head right now, this is really awkward, "It's a bit hard to explain."  
  
Her eyes narrow dangerously, "Continue with what you were saying earlier."  
  
I sigh, and immediately Seifer gives me another shove, "Alright already, you don't have to be so pushy!" Needless to say I good twack to the side of my head by an angered Zell, and with my comprimised balance, I fall to the ground, landing on my hip. I turn on to my rear and look up at them.  
  
"Continue," Quistis says again, more forcefully this Time.  
  
"My name is Link, nice to meet ya," I say sacastically, muttering under my breath the word 'again', but they don't seem to hear, "I am an Elf, good for me. As to where I come from, and how I got here, well, that's a bit of a tale. . .sounds rather farfetched, even to me. Squall will be able to vouch for me, a bit," I state, murmuring the words 'I hope', and this time I get a light kick to my legs for my words.  
  
"Who sent you?" Quistis asks, glaring down at me.  
  
"No one did. Like I said, it's a bit of a strange story and if I told you-"  
  
"Tell me."   
  
"-you'd probably-"  
  
"Tell me, this instant."  
  
"-laugh and throw me into, uh, those. . .um. . .Excuse my bad, uh, whatever language it is you guys speak, but the "lotúso". . ." and her questioning stare (I'm not really paying attention to anyone else, "Uh, the place where they put the crazies. . ."  
  
"Ah!" Zell exclaims behind me in an excited voice, almost as if he's forgotten that there's a bit of an interregation going on, "A nut house!"  
  
"Shut the fuck up," Irvine hisses, pure anger in his voice, and my attention focuses back on Quistis.  
  
"Still, I-" the sound of mechanical roaring greets our ears, and with a quick glance to the south, I can see the approach of some kind of large vehical. . .I think they call it a 'car'. It's white and bears a red stripe and a red cross on it, and some yellow lettering. I can't read it (of course), but appearently the others can, and they look happy to see it. I can even hear Rinoa breath a sigh of relief, and Quistis faces me again, continuing, "Get him-" she points at me, "-back to Garden, and becareful with him. Do NOT let him out of your sight. . .I want him locked up."  
  
As they drag me away to some unknown (to me at least, except for the fact that I'm gonna be in the Garden) location, I manage to hear a bit of what Selphie asked Quistis. They were talking about something to do with were to put me, but I couldn't hear Quistis' answer.  
  
Seifer jerks on my shirt, murmuring to himself and forcing me (he's been doing a lot of that in the last while) to stop looking over my shoulder. I submit hestitantly, unsure of exactly what to do. I think that this is the only way that I can do things. . .but still, this isn't a good way to start off a new friendship with anyone. . .  
  
As we near what I hear someone call an 'Ambulance' (the large white and red machine), I can see another vehical behind it, around the same size but dark grey with a large swinging door and barred windows (which are also covered in glass). They open up the door, and together Seifer and Irvine give me a good toss into the back of this thing. I land in there a little hard, sliding across the floor, getting some dirt and grime into the wound on my cheek. My hands are still tied with that metallic whatever, so by the Time I can sit up again, the door is slamed shut, and I'm trapped in darkness.  
  
. . .I've come full circle. . .And the results are both good and bad. . .But I can live with this, if Squall is going to be okay. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: THANK YOU!! ALL OF YOU! ESPECIALLY ANGIE WHO GAVE ME THE 50th REVIEW!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! [grabs everyone into one big group hug (whether they want it or not) and just about squeezes them all to death]  
  
I think that's it for now, so PLZ R+R!! I'd appreciate it! Next goal: 100 reviews!! ^-^ BWHAHA!!  
  
Sorry if the Golem part last time was long and boring, but. . .well. . .O_o, I don't have an excuse for that one. . .  
  
ACK! MY MOM IS HAVING ME PRINT THESE OUT FOR HER! She's reading this as well (holding hands in head. . .Head in hands, I mean), well, not yet. She's only on like chapter 5 (I stall a lot, okay?)  
  
I HAVE FOUND A GAME WHERE LINK HAS SPOKEN!!!!!!!!  
  
Oh, yes. He actually says something:  
  
"I have found a mirror under the table."  
  
Now, whether he is thinking or saying this wonderful comment (a masterpiece of the english language), is unclear, however, he does 'say' it in the second LOZ: Link's Adventure (cool game), so HAHAHAHA! There is a game where Link speaks!!.  
  
The part about peoples day's being numbered probably isn't mine, I think I've heard something similar somewhere. . .I'll see if I can find who said that.  
  
Also, all Elvish in here is made up by me, and I'll try to keep it working straight. . .no guarentees there though. And if it isn't very clever, forgive me, I ain't good at other languages.  
  
No Malon in this chapter, but more to come. Oh, no, she ain't gonna leave Link alone any time soon, no sir. And she is gonna be so annoying. . .well, the illusionary her, anyway.  
  
Next chapter: Accusations, testaments, and Bandages. The title kina speaks for itself, no?  
  
See ya then! ^-^ 


	17. Chapter XVI Accusations, Testaments, an...

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XVI - Accusations, Testaments, and Bandages  
  
~*~  
  
The dry, dusty notes of the Requiem of Spirit echo sadly from my ocarina, lingering in the room like the light of dawn after a cold, hard night filled with unpleasant dreams. Like the sound of Time alone spent on in the desert, no one to keep me company but the memories. . .I don't like most of my memories. . .Maybe that's one of the reasons I don't like this song all that much. . .  
  
But, it's one of the few songs I can remember.  
  
I've attracted no small number of people past my 'cell' by my music alone. And of course, as soon as the music started from my instrument, so did the superstitions from them. I heard someone talking about everyone plugging their ears encase my music will entrance them. That's just plain silly, I don't have any songs that do that.  
  
I have ones that will make you fall asleep, but not bend you to my will.  
  
I continue on with the song, my eyes shut as I think of what may be to come, when a clicking sound catches my attention. I look up at my visitor, not taking my lips from the ocarina.  
  
Can't appear as a threat, now can I?  
  
A middle aged lady walks in, slightly shorter than me (and much rounder), her dark black hair tied back tightly in a bun, all except for a few strands. She wears a long white coat, complete with little pockets (which have various things sticking out of them, those new world quills they have, pieces of paper), looking much like a medic of some sort. Her appearance overall is somewhat haphazard and unorganized, but she also has this air of caring and understanding that I find so rare in other people.  
  
She gives me a bright smile, using her (rather large, though I wouldn't say that out loud) rear to close the door behind her, her hands busy with a tray.   
  
I put away the ocarina and smile back.  
  
"That was a beautiful song. . .Sad, but beautiful," she says quietly, putting down the tray on a nightstand beside the bed I sit on, allowing me to see the bowl of soup and bread, along with some mysterious canned (and colorful) drink.  
  
My stomach growls. . .I haven't eaten in a while. . .  
  
"Sorry about them keeping you here, they were raised as mercenaries, you know. Something bad happens, and the first thing they do is suspect betrayal or some kind of organized attack," she let out a light chuckle, "They're just so suspicious of everyone, and everything."  
  
"I'm sorry," I mumble, "I didn't catch your name. . ."  
  
"Oh! I'm rather forgetful these days. I am Dr. Kadowaki," she said, a smile on her face as she runs a hand through her hair, "Everyone calls me that, it's like no one ever remembers my first name anymore. . ."  
  
"And what is your first name, if I may?" I've got to be as polite as I can be, and besides, she's nice, unlike how the rest of them are treating me.  
  
"Marie, Marie Kadowaki. Now here, let me bandage those up for you," she grabs one of my arms gently, pulling it towards her as she reaches into her back pocket for something. For one second I grow afraid and try to yank my arm back, unsure of what she wants to do (her movements reminding me of some memories I'd rather forget), at least that is until I see her hand come out with a roll of bandages from her back pocket, "Hey, don't worry, these will work a lot better than your shirt does." I let her have my arm again, and she takes it carefully, examining them closely. She gingerly removes my makeshift bandages, being careful around the wounds.  
  
"Okay, I've got to clean the wounds first, so please hold still, this is going to sting a little," she says, rooting around in her pockets and pulling out a small brown bottle. She twists open the cap, and then she wets a small square piece of cloth with the stuff, before rubbing the soft fabric up and down my left arm. I shudder as the cold material travels across my skin, cleaning out the gore and blood. There's a bit of a sting as she said there would be, but the overall feeling of the cool liquid against the fire that is my arms makes me almost oblivious to anything else.  
  
My perception of the cool has faded and the after effects of the sting are now present, but my arm feels so much cleaner. . .almost lighter. . .  
  
She takes my hand gently, and starts wrapping up the wounded areas. Around the back of the wrist, just above my elbow, and on the shoulder are all areas scarred by some kind of attack, and she tends them all dutifully, making sure not to cause me any discomfort. Soon she is done with that arm, leaving behind three sections of light (but nice and tight) bandaging, moving on to the next arm.  
  
The same process is begun anew; she bathes my arm with that cold wet cloth, the one that makes me feel like my skin is burning off and being replaced by a cool layer of liquid, and again she begins bandaging, working in silence. On this arm, there is two damaged sections; the back of my hand has a fair-sized gash in it, and there's also a large laceration running up the outer side, up past the elbows. Soon it is tended to as well, and she looks to me.  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"Uh, I'm sorry to be taking up so much of your Time," I begin, raising a hand to scratch the back of my head, "but-" my nervous smile changes to a disturbed frown as my fingers touch something hard and bumpy in my hair, which immediately breaks off with a sting. I bring my fingers back in front of my face, the tips covered with a thick layer off oozing blood, which is already drying and adding to the crimson stains from previous battles.   
  
Without a word, she moves behind me, taking her bottle with her as she sits on the bed. She takes the back of my head in her hands, pouring some of the cold liquid in my wound, which causes me to shiver. She rubs it in carefully, cleaning out the gore. It stings, of course, but nothing unbearable.  
  
"How old are these wounds?" she asks, almost absentmindedly, still poking at my head. I shrug lightly, trying not to disrupt her work.  
  
"Probably two or three days at most. . .I can't be exactly sure, I was underground at the Time," I can hear a sound of agreement behind me, but she says no more, and neither do I. I don't want to disturb her, not when she is going out of her way to help me like this. Telling from the stinging, the wound on my head (it must have been caused when I was throw across the floor by those Iliks) is probably infected.  
  
Soon enough, she finishes with my head and she walks back in front of me, "Is there anything else?"   
  
"Just a few small cuts. . .Nothing really serious," I say, my nervousness and pride making their appearance in my mind, hopping (carefully) on to my feet, trying to ignore the throbbing there, "Thanks for coming and-"  
  
Her eyes narrow, "You're lying," she says, tapping one foot lightly on the floor as if in impatience, "Where else are you hurt? And don't try to dance around it. . .I can see how you're standing. . ." I scratch the back of my head, wearing a nervous smile (and trying to avoid scratching that one spot). She just rolls her eyes, her arms crossed in front of her, "Fine then, take off your shirt."  
  
If my eyes could pop out of my head by their own will, I would have sworn that they just did, "W-what?"  
  
"I said: take off your shirt."  
  
"B-but!"  
  
She sighs loudly, "Come on, it's not like I haven't seen a guy's chest before, so hurry up and take it off." For one second, I contemplate just saying again that I am fine, but I can tell she won't take that for an answer. I bite my lip, and grab the bottom of my shirt, pulling the damp, filthy scrap (it looks like rags ever since I tore off a bit of the bottom) over my head. I can see the Doctor's eyes (aren't all doctors supposed to be male?) widen slightly, probably at the multitude of scars.  
  
Probably also at that big one on my chest from the soul stone. . .  
  
"You've been in a lot of fights," she runs her finger alongside the scar that Diablo gave me, circling halfway around my neck, causing me to shiver away from her touch, "Haven't you?"  
  
I give her a brief nod, trying to maintain a smile (however false) on my face, "A few. . ." She motions with her finger for me to turn around, and so I do. Within a few moments, I can feel that cold stinging of that cleansing liquid on my back, washing any of the wounds. . .  
  
"Your back isn't too bad, but you've got some large bruises on it," she touches an area near my spine and I cringe, "How about your legs?. . .Drop your pants." I swear that my eyes somehow manage to go even wider than before, and I swallow audibly.  
  
"But-!!"  
  
"Geez!" she interrupts, and I turn around just in Time to see her throw up her arms in frustration, "You'd think that I'd never seen a man before. Listen, I've got kids, so it doesn't mean a thing to me," she watches me for a moment, "Fine. Here," she grabs something from within the drawer beside the bed, "Use this sheet to cover yourself then." She tosses a white bed sheet at me, and I catch it, slightly confused, "Here, I'll look away," she turns around, and after a second's hesitation, I quickly pull off my pants and wrap the sheet around myself tightly. By the Time she faces me again, I am covered rather nicely, though I made sure to leave my legs in sight as she'll want to see any injuries that may be there. . .  
  
"Sorry. . .I'm just - uh, I kind of like my privacy, you know what I mean?" If it weren't for the fact that both my hands are carefully holding up the towel, I'd probably be scratching my head, yet again.  
  
"I guess I. . .I understand, it's just not often I see someone act this way," she admits, bending down by my legs, "Here, sit down on the bed and stick your legs out, this is too hard on an old woman like me," I can faintly see her smile, and in that grin there is no trace of the enfeeblement that comes with age, but I do as she says.  
  
After I've hopped up on to the bed, she grabs my left leg, hoisting it. After a quick inspection, she slathers some of that cold liquid on to the small scrapes I have, bandaging up any of the worse ones. I don't pay much attention to her work, as I am studying the dormitory room they have locked me into.  
  
It's rather plain, white walls, white ceiling, grey carpeting. . .There's a bed in the far left corner, and a small nightstand beside it. On the right side of the room there is a table with two chairs, and beside that, a bookshelf. A lamp on the nightstand, some pencils and those new world quills on the table. . .Not much else. . .No window, they wouldn't trust me with a window.  
  
"So," the Doctor begins, obviously trying to start up some half hearted conversation, "Where do you come from?"  
  
"Uh, many. . .places," I don't really want to tell her some crazy story where I come from a place where there are almost only Elves, and after several years of not being able to find my way home, I get stuck in a seal for five hundred years, only to get saved by the SeeDs but I have to go back in Time to save Squall who was. . .hey, what about Squall? "Um, if I may, Dr. Kadowaki? How is Squall doing? No one has given me any news about him. . ."  
  
She looks blankly at me for a moment, before the realization snaps into her eyes, "Oh! No one has, have they? I'm going to have to talk to the Headmaster about all of this. . .maltreatment! Squall is. . .He has regained consciousness, but-"   
  
"Don't tell me he's going to die. . ." I interrupt, biting my lip after almost adding in the word 'again'. It wouldn't do for her to hear that.   
  
"No, he'll live, at least, he should. It's the most probable outcome, those claws got him rather well down the back, but the damage wasn't too severe; just some internal bleeding, but that's it."  
  
"That's good to hear," I really don't want to have to repeat this entire experience, "You were saying about his conscious state?"  
  
She gives me a bit of an odd side glace, "He's still quite out of it. Like I said, those claws got him rather well, he lost a lot of blood, but that's about it. It's only been what? Two days since the battle, and I have said it before, so I will say it again, that boy has had a remarkable recovery. . .But he's still a little weak. It should wear off in a few days or so."  
  
I nod, grateful to hear that he'll be alright.   
  
The Doctor finishes with my first leg, and then she checks out my right. Of course, upon her notice of the stab wound that the Fallen like thing gave me in the back of my calf, out comes that bottle again, and there's a larger sting this time from the liquid. . .  
  
"So," I say through gritted teeth, "What are they planning to do with me?" I look at her, trying to ignore the fact that she's actually poking her fingers partially into my flesh, trying to clean it out. She stops and glances up at me, before she turns back to her work.  
  
"No clue, they're probably going ask you a lot of questions, though," I listen intently as her fingers work even deeper, feeling for an infection, "Expect one or two of them to suspect that you had something directly to do with it-"  
  
"Seifer," I murmur, clenching my eyes shut as her finger prods, opening them just in Time to see her nod in answer.  
  
"He would be one of my choices for that. . .Just out of curiosity: how do you know his name?" She looks up at me, and I can see a gleam in her eyes, almost like she knows that she's caught me in something or another.  
  
"I, uh, I've talked to Squall before, and he's. . .told me about them. . ." I answer, doing my best to hide my nervous frown, but I know that she's seen it.  
  
"Don't lie to me, I can see through it, however, the others might not. . .And they will not be able to deny the fact that you did 'help' them kill the monster. . .Squall-"  
  
"-Squall might say something really weird in his delirium," I say, looking away as her finger prods even deeper.  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"Ah. . .We met, how could you say it. . .It was a strange meeting. . .And - ack! - if he says what I'm hoping he'll have the brains not to say, they'll probably think he's crazy, so, well, if he does say something like that, I'm sure that you could tell them he might still be a bit delirious, right?" I breathe a sigh of relief as her hand comes away from the wound, bloody, but out.  
  
"Alright, I might say something along those lines," she cleans her finger off on a corner of her coat, "Any other injuries?" I frown and think for a moment, then I shake my head, with sincerity this Time. She quickly bandages up my calf, wrapping it tightly.  
  
"Thanks," I say, and the good doctor nods and exits the room, taking her stuff with her.  
  
You know, maybe female doctors aren't so bad. . .They're definitely informative.  
  
I'm kinda sore now. . .Most of those wounds were nearly closed up. . .I feel as if almost every seam in my body has been ripped open. . .  
  
With a careful stretch and a yawn, I reach back for my ocarina. I stashed it back into one of the compartments in my belt when Dr. Kadowaki first arrived. Now, I reach for my belt, which lies on the floor beside the bed. My hand searches, and I can feel it first come across the cylindrical shape that is the soul stone. . .Funny, it always feels so warm. . .  
  
When I was first pulled in to this place, my soul stone fell from my pocket, and one of my 'guards' saw it. Of course, the questions soon followed. I answered that it was a memento from one of my dearest friends, who I have not seen in years. It took them a moment, but they swallowed it well enough.  
  
I shake my head clear of my thoughts, looking again for the ocarina. . .It's surprising how large these pockets are. . .  
  
I pull it out, cold and sleek, it fits in my palm excellently, almost as if it was made for my hand alone. Which, of course, is impossible, but still. . .  
  
Putting it to my lips, I decide on a song to play. . .I only remember a few, like the Song of Storms, the Song of Time (like I could ever forget that one), Epona's Song, Saria's Song, The Requiem of Spirit, and the Nocturne of Shadow, along with The Goron Lullaby, and The Elegy of Emptiness, but besides that, I am a blank for songs from my earlier adventures. . .I've learnt a few new ones as well, such as that song about Raissa, but no more magical tunes (not that any of the magical ones seem to even work anymore). . .So what should I play?  
  
Elegy of Emptiness is a no, as I don't want some mystical image of myself left lying about. . .Even if the magical tunes don't seem to work, I don't want to chance it. And the Nocturne of Shadow would probably scare my guards into action, or something equally bad. . .The Lullaby is out, as is the Song of Storms - I don't want anyone to think that I can cause such powerful magic, or even worse, for them to find out that it's the ocarina that can do it. . .Epona's song is not much of a tune since Epona died (what a horrific death. . .), and Saria's song is a little too lighthearted for an occasion like this. . .  
  
Soon the tune of Dear, Sweet Raissa plays from my instrument, sounding hauntingly beautiful in the empty quiet of the room. . .I lean back against the wall, eyes again closed, slowly drifting into a tired sleep even as I play. . .  
  
"Aw, but come on, I haven't had a chance to talk with you in a while," Malon's sweet voice sounds somewhere to my left, and I can feel a light frown form on my face, "And besides, you only woke up a few hours ago."  
  
[So what? It's either sleep or talk to my little hallucinations, so I think I prefer the former,] I think with a inner hiss, directing it at her.  
  
"Is that so? I guess that's true enough, but you know, you have got to face your faults, you know that?" One of my eyebrows arches with my unspoken question, but I still don't open my eyes, "So many faults. . .Being a failure is one of your larger ones, along with being too curious for your own good."  
  
[How so?] the tune still plays, never missing a note.  
  
"Well, take the whole Termina experience. That was-  
  
[I never meant to go there, never mind not be able to come back,] again I hiss my response at her, my mind seething with dislike for this illusion.  
  
"Ah, but you didn't let me finish. If you weren't so. . .childish, adventurous, then you would still be home at Hyrule, and none of this would have happened. Same thing with the Spiritual Stones. If you had just remained seated, if you had let Gannondorf make the first serious move, then all would be well. Not even Gannondorf, with his Gerudo army, would have been able to get all the Spiritual Stones. Castle Town still stood after the assault on it, didn't it?"   
  
I give her no answer, and after a moment she continues anyway, "The Gorons also would have been hard to overthrow. In fact, the only reason Gannondorf was so hard to defeat was because he had that Triforce of Power, and the armies of Darkness he was able to raise with it. He would never have gotten anywhere without it; he would have been crushed like a bug. Of course, you gave him the way into the Sacred Realm, remember."  
  
Of course I remember, but I don't want to think about it. . .That was undoubtedly the biggest mistake I have ever made. . .  
  
"Oh yes, yes it was. A few other mistakes have been pretty large, but none as large as that. I must say, you did handle Majora fairly well, but then again, that was because every Time you slipped up, you would just go back and try again. Too bad you can't go back five hundred years and just stay home, huh? But if you did-"  
  
[-If I did, then Termina would die, and who knows what that would do to Hyrule. . .Never mind, I can't leave the people of Termina to die. . .]  
  
"It's funny," Malon remarks, after a few moments of silence, "You saved them from their namesake."  
  
[How so?]  
  
"Termina. Terminal. Terminal meaning the end, as in death-"  
  
[I know what you mean by terminal. . .But I never did think of it that way. . .]  
  
The tune plays undisturbed, and even though she hasn't said anything I know Malon is still here. Her silence is definitely unusual, but I let it pass, rather glad that I don't have to hear about my mistakes and faults and whatnot. . .Hearing about things like those always make me feel so. . .hollow.  
  
"So, what are you going to do about this mess?" she asks, and I shrug, being careful not to lose my place in the song, "I mean, you could be in a lot of trouble with this one."  
  
[How so?]  
  
"Well, do or say something wrong and I won't be surprised if they kill you, so, figuring out what to do and what to say would probably be your best bet."  
  
[How can I? I don't know what they are going to ask. . .I wasn't the one who got a Triforce piece because of my smarts,] I think, trying not to be distracted by the conversation. . .This song sounds really good on an ocarina.  
  
"Well, there's a reason for that, and it is that you never think about what you're doing; you always just charge in head first," I give a slight nod, and she continues, "So how about this: you stop playing that ridiculous song, and I'll help you."  
  
[Okay, first off,] I frown slightly, still not putting down the instrument, [When I do try to think things through, I usually end up in worse trouble than I began with. Number two, you are a part of me, therefore, you are no brighter than I am,] I can hear an indignant 'hmph!' at that, but I proceed anyway, [And lastly, even the Princess Zelda herself wouldn't know how to talk her way out of a conversation like this, I guarantee it.]  
  
"True enough," I can almost hear the smirk in her voice, "but we can try. Besides, what else are you going to do? Play that crap for the rest of the day?"  
  
[Beats your criticism,] I think nonchalantly, though I bet that if this was the real Malon I was talking to, I would be enjoying any lectures she may have had for me. . .  
  
"Either way, I do suggest you do it, and soon."  
  
[Why so eager? I've got plenty of Time. . .]  
  
"No, actually," I open my eyes to look at her, and I can see the expressionless face staring back at me, "You're out of Time." She fades and the door opens.  
  
In walks the two coat men, as I have taken to calling them; Irvine, with his long brown floor duster, and Seifer with his white trench coat. They both look at me with scowling faces, their brows set in frowns. I give them no response, just looking at them as if asking 'why the Hell are you here'?   
  
They also give me no reaction (though I could have sworn that I saw Seifer's left eye twitch ever so slightly), and then they part almost like this is some royal procession, making way for Quistis, who comes dressed in a blue teacher's uniform, a blue skirt and vest, with a white shirt underneath. It looks really professional. She's got a emotionless mask on, though I can see it in her eyes. . .She's worried about Squall, and from the looks of it mad at me. . .  
  
She walks between her bodyguards, all three of them keeping up this intimidating act (or it would be, if I had not grown up the way I have). Standing in front of me, she motions to Seifer, and he brings her one of the chairs from the other side of the room, moving it into position for her.   
  
Wow, Seifer actually took orders. . .This must be pretty important for him to obey authority. . .Any Time that Quistis asked him something while we were still searching for my body and for the ocarina, he may have listened and done what he was told, but not without some smart aleck comment or a caustic retort. Now, he's doing things by the way she MOTIONS for him to do it, without so much as a facial expression.   
  
She seats herself down rather ladylike (though not without a great deal of authority), and the two guys move to the door, one on each side, with their hands clasped behind their backs in a form of an at ease stance.  
  
"Who are you?" Quistis begins, her hands sitting on her lap, holding down the edge of her skirt, even though her legs are crossed. A good thing she has decency. Otherwise, all she would accomplish is showing herself off and embarrassing me. I'm not the gawking type.  
  
"Link," I answer easily (as I should). I feel trouble coming on, as I am already having a hard Time keeping any sarcasm back. And if I know my big mouth when I am asked stupid questions. . .  
  
"Where are you from?"   
  
"Far, far away. . ." I wave my hand in lazy circles in the air, trying to emphasize the 'far away' part. I can't help but smirk at that, but Quistis shows no sign of either humor or anger. She keeps that calm, professional cool, as if I had said nothing out of the ordinary at all.  
  
"How do you know Commander Squall?" she asks, in the same near monotone voice that she has used for all the other questions so far. She betrays nothing except for slight annoyance, simply asking me the questions, but if I were to tell her the answers, well. . .  
  
"Met him in the market," I smile and shrug casually, but suddenly she gives me a death glare. A glare worthy of piercing the very souls of some of the fiercest fighters I have ever known. . .With her eyes narrowed like that, I wouldn't be surprised if my ending came soon, by her hands.  
  
"Answer truthfully," she says, her glance slowly relaxing back into it's former look. I sigh.  
  
"He helped me, I suppose you could say. I was in trouble and he saved my butt," not quite the truth, but far better than, "Listen, I'm not here to-"  
  
"I will do the questions, you give me the answers, understand?" she interrupts and I roll my eyes, "And enough of your theatrics. Now, where did you come from?"  
  
"You mean, like just before the battle?" she nods, "Uh, well, now that's a bad question. . ." On the reappearance of the evil death glare, I resist the urge to roll my eyes or sigh or something, "Okay fine, Hell with it," I begin, screw this coming up with something, the truth is so much easier than this thinking stuff, "I came from a week or two in the future, and I came back so I could help out Squall because he wouldn't listen to me the first Time around. . .Hm, did that even make any sense?" My question falls on deaf ears, as everyone (yes, even the guys, they've stopped with the emotionless masks for a moment) stares at me with an 'are-you-crazy'? look.  
  
Quistis is of course the first to regain her composure, crossing her arms in front of her, "That is a rather unusual claim, but do you have any proof?"  
  
Now there's a good point, do I have any proof? "Um, I'm sure when Squall wakes up and. . .is, uh. . .What's a good word for non-delirious?" I know a good word in Hylain, but I doubt that would help my position any, if I just suddenly started switching between languages.  
  
"Coherent?" Seifer suggests, back to his usual smug attitude, though it's quite obvious that he is also rather mad, or annoyed. . .I can't be sure. Probably some mixture of both.  
  
"Yeah! When he wakes up and is coherent, he'll help back me up! . . .I hope," a frown comes over my face temporarily, as I wonder whether the Gunblader will help me or not. He really didn't seem to like me during my stay in his head, but then again he did think I was just a voice, and so he treated me much like I treat the Malon that I see. . .If he sees that I wasn't lying, maybe then he'll listen. . .and help me out of this mess.  
  
"Well, once he can back up your statement or deny it, then you will be judged, until then, you remain here," she stands up, giving her skirt a brief dust off, "We will continue this at a later time, I've had enough of this nonsense." Quisis does an elegant turn around, leaving through the door (I can just make out two of my guards outside the threshold), soon followed by Seifer and Irvine, both which shoot glares at me. The door clicks shut, and again I am alone.  
  
I lean back against the wall, stretching my legs out across the bed. That was an interesting conversation, to say the least. My body still aches from Marie's treatments, and I can't leave the room (I hate being cooped up), and worst of all, I notice now, looking at the nightstand, I forgot about my soup. It's probably all cold now, and if I know cold soup (which if I don't already, then I will soon) it tastes disgusting.   
  
Oh well, only one way to be sure. Not like I've got anything else to do.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: I know, not much happened, at least nothing exciting, but this chapter is fairly important in it's own ways. Next chapter, the plot moves forward once more! ^-^ And I'll try to get it up soon, like real soon, so keep your eyes open for it! I don't think anything really has changed much (I still do not own LOZ or anything, so that's the same), so I guess I'll let you go. . .on one condition! REVIEW!!! ^-^ BWHAHAH!!  
  
I'm also trying to find a groove for things. . .I think I'll set it up so that I'll update my stories on thursdays, and then work on stories throughout the week, and update again (multiple stories at once) on thursday. . .that might work nicely. . .  
  
Oh, yes, in the old days, only males could be doctors, and nurses could only be females. I'm just saying this for anyone who read that part and maybe thinks that I'm sexist or something. I'm not, I just used that comment because in the world where Link originally comes from, I don't think things would be like they are today.  
  
See ya! Please R+R!  
  
Thanks for reading! 


	18. Chapter XVII A Race to the Finish

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XVII - A Race to the Finish  
  
~*~  
  
. . .I run behind the metal stand of the torch, which is lit and burning brightly. The flame flickers, casting shadows upon everything in the room, giving the entire place some unreal look to it. I'm running, running as hard as I can, I can't lose now.  
  
Coming to a skidding halt, I turn and knock an arrow into place, and I take aim. . .  
  
The arrow flies through the burning flame, catching alight as it continues to it's target, the giant hulking Demon that is Andariel. . .And almost immediately, I fire another shot which follows much of the same path as the first one, through the fire and all. The first strikes the Demon in the chest with a loud thud, just above her left breast, while the second catches her in the throat. Hard, fierce eyes, filled with anger and hate soften into ones filled with sadness and despair, the rest of the body already following the transformation I am so used to now, in this dream.  
  
The Demon's body shrinks and reforms to fit that of a young Hylain girl, bright red hair falling into a more natural (yet amazing) position. Tanned skin like leather softens and pales slightly, yet still colored from her work out in the sun. Black eyes now a bright blue, she watches me, the parts of her body that are not human becoming so.   
  
The fire licks her skin around her new formed wounds, hungry but not spreading. . .Blood dripping down her naked body. . .  
  
"How could you do this?" she asks, "How. . How could you d-do this. . .to anyone?" Her voice becomes weaker with each second of life that is lost, "I-I thought. . .I. . ." She chokes on her own words, the sound something between a sob and a strangled noise. . .The front of her body is decorated with streams of seeping blood, and I watch, as at last the fires begin to spread, coalescing around her body like a cradle of fire.  
  
"I . . . You . . . Betrayer. . .L-left Hyrule. . .for dead. . .Hero of Time. . .Destroyer. . ."  
  
And her hair bursts into a blazing crown of flames.  
  
~*~  
  
I lurch awake, slamming into reality so hard I can almost physically feel it. My breath comes in such short gasps that it's almost painful. One hand on my chest, I wait for myself to calm down, to regain that hold I seek every night after this same dream. It's visited me a lot recently, attacking me in the early hours, causing me to stay up because I can't fall asleep after this. So I can wait until the morning, every slow, painful second, until the Time comes for another daily decision to be made: what to do with me.  
  
So far, the SeeDs have been just keeping me in here, feeding me, and sometimes I get graced by the Doctor, but besides that no decision has been made. I think they are waiting for Squall to wake up, and when he does, that is when this fabled choice shall be made.  
  
Not surprising that with the coming of every day, I come so close to praying to the Goddesses that today be the last day, so that the wait can end, and end however it wishes to.  
  
But I don't.  
  
I won't pray to them, not after all they've done for me. I'll curse them, but I won't say 'Oh, Nayru, please save me from. . .' whatever. I wouldn't trust them if they came down with their arms wide open, begging for an apology.  
  
A few days can really change a person, can't it? Before, well, I wasn't really so against them, but. . .I've had a lot of Time to think. . .  
  
I blink my eyes slowly, trying vainly to overcome the lack of sleep that has been biting the edges of my mind for the last four days. Every night since the day of the sparring (it seems so long ago) I have slept and awoken to this dream. And every night, the images. . .they become clearer. Things become so much more detailed. . .Making it all the more painful to watch. . .  
  
I can't go back to sleep, I know that much from the deep throbbing in my chest, so I'm almost forced to review the events of the last few days in my head. Nothing special or anything happened, each day was just another wait in here, hoping that Squall would be back on his feet. I hate being in places like this, as there's nothing to do. I can play music, but that's about it.   
  
And playing music can get a little boring after a few hours. . .  
  
So instead, I lean against the wall, still sitting on the bed. I think about things, though nothing in particular. I think of Malon, the SeeDs, Tyrael, Squall, Gannondorf, the Goddesses. . .  
  
Again with a touch of anger at that one. . .  
  
I sigh, trying not to travel far down that line of thought. It's probably not the best of ideas to go blaming the Goddesses for my mistakes and failures. . .I don't really want to have their existence proved to me by a good old smite fest, or something. . .Whatever it is divine beings amuse themselves with. . .  
  
"Musing on that old crap again?" Malon's voice sounds from my left, but she makes no appearance, "Don't you ever get bored with feeling sorry for yourself?"  
  
I don't answer, just sitting and brooding on exactly what a smite fest would be like, when a sigh is audible (to me, only), and she continues with one of her seemingly endless tirades.  
  
"What? No smart comment? Caustic retorts? Shameless-"  
  
[Big words for a dead woman.]  
  
"How can you say that so carelessly? I thought you loved me. . .To talk of my death so casually-"  
  
[And you mention it so often, it's almost like you want me to talk about your 'untimely' demise. . .Fine then, let's talk about you. How you died. Would that make you happy? To have me constantly reminded that this is all my fault? I guess it would, since that's all you ever talk about. Do you think I like this? Sitting here in this room, having more than enough Time on my hands to think about things like during that Time I spent in Hyrule, that kid died because a Wolfos happened to choose that moment to knock me down? I know that had I remained on my feet, he'd be okay, I would have been able to reach him in Time. I realize that I didn't and now he's dead, and I understand that I did a horrible job, but do you really have to come here and make matters worse?]  
  
I expect her to do something characteristic of all the other Times I have attacked her like this. Maybe, I don't know, fake an actual existence by acting sad, or horrified or something, but she surprises me. In such a callous manner, she simply laughs, and I can imagine the way her hair would be flowing, as she tosses her head back, the red shimmering like bloody waters in the moonlight. . .  
  
"Watch it Link, you're starting to sound like you think I'm real. . ." There's another lighthearted snicker, reminding me of a child at play, "Or maybe you just can't tell the difference anymor-"  
  
A sudden knocking jolts me from my thoughts (and from Malon's ranting), causing me to stare at the door with a bit of surprise and confusion.  
  
Why are they knocking? It's not like I have enough of a run about the place to actually deny them entrance. . .  
  
"Uh, yeah?" I call out, wondering if I am going to receive an answer or not. Maybe it's some cadet who thinks this is their friend's room and they just got it mixed up. . .  
  
I might have believed that, if it were not for the memory of the 'guards' waiting outside.  
  
The door opens with a loud (loud in this silence) click, and in comes the Doctor, closing the door as quietly as she can behind herself. She's dressed in the same attire (I ponder briefly if she just doesn't change clothes, ever, and then I think: like I'm on to talk, I haven't been able to change since I got here, and that means I'm still in dirty filthy rags) as before, and as if an answer to my thoughts, she is carrying a small pile of clean clothes.  
  
Maybe I should start praying to the good doctor. . .  
  
"Sorry to disturb you so late, but I really need to see you," she says, and I arch an eyebrow (not in a rude manner), my own quiet way of asking her to continue, "But Squall is finally becoming stable. Here, take these-" she hands me the clothes, "-and get dressed quickly. I want you to get a chance to talk to him before the others can. They're still suspicious about you, and well, I don't want them confusing Squall while he's still weak." I only now notice that she is talking in hushed tones, just like she-  
  
"Did you sneak in here?" I ask, lowering my head and my tone, almost as if I am about to be seen as well as possibly heard. She nods.  
  
"Yes, now come on change. I'll turn again, but I'm not leaving, we've got to make this quick. Don't bother with your stuff, it'll just cause more questions if we get seen." She turns around, giving me the privacy I need to slip into the white, rather cheaply made clothes. Now, I have spent the majority of my life (excluding those five hundred years or so) living from coin to coin, and so of course I don't complain. Still, I hope these are only temporary; they're an extremely low quality (feels like they're going to rip any moment) and are giving me a terrible itch.  
  
"Why are you doing this for me?" I ask while slipping on the shirt. A little tag of some sorts (I don't bother to look, we don't have the Time) tickles my neck like crazy, but I ignore it as best as I can, shifting in my shirt slightly to try to remove the itch, all while I'm working on pulling up the white pants. . .  
  
Goddesses, now I look like some medic. . .  
  
Dr. Kadowaki turns around, giving me a smug smile once she sees how I look, "Perfect. They'll never know." She grabs one of my hands and starts heading to the door rather roughly (and somehow, quietly), but I resist and catch her attention once again.  
  
"What about my ears?" I hiss, still trying to keep the tone down even though I feel like she's just about pulled all the skin off my wrists. . .I was only able to remove those bandages yesterday, and still the wounds are not completely healed. . .  
  
"Just shove some of your hair over them," Kadowaki's facing me again and though she told me to do it, she covers my ears for me. She gives me a quick look over, studying my face especially, "You look a lot more normal. . .But your facial structure. . .Oh well, there's nothing we can do about that. Come on." Suddenly she's pulling me towards the door again, and she opens it a crack, takes a brief look out side, before she continues yanking me out into the hallway.  
  
It's deserted right now, quiet except for the sound of air rushing from a few of those mechanical vents. . .and of us running down the halls. My feet land with a light tap, a very useful trait of being Elven is the whole being light on your feet part, but Kadowaki is running with all the noise of an average human (though I am slightly surprised someone with her girth can run for so far). The remains of the my leg wound, the one given to me by that damned Fallen, throbs violently, each step a painful shock runs up my leg. I do my best to grin and bear it, only with a little less grinning.  
  
Soon we do slow down a little as we come towards the circular hall of Balamb Garden and Kadowaki is breathing pretty heavily, but she tries to conceal it, succeeding only partially. Once we reach the junction point, she motions for me to move behind her.  
  
"You stay a few steps behind," she whispers, turning back towards the circling hall, "And keep your head down! If someone comes along. . .just pretend you're one of my assistants or something. . ." She shakes her head, and I fall behind her, feeling strangely chastised. I walk close, yet not too close, and the few people we pass seem fooled. They sent me only curious glances, before turning back to whatever it was they were doing.   
  
Maybe this might work. . .  
  
We head for what I think is the infirmary hall, walking as if we belong here. Well, Kadowaki does, but I don't. . .and I think if someone gets a good look at my face, they might agree with me.  
  
I would instantly be noticed. . .My chin is a bit narrow for a guy (at least, in human terms) and I'm quite skinny. I'm a medium height for an Elf, but compared to all the other males in this place, I'm short. And though it wouldn't really help to tip people off, I've also noticed that I walk with a bit better of a posture then most humans. . .I guess that's from lugging around a sword from so long.   
  
I lift my head to take a glance about, curious as to what's happening around me. In this section of the circular hall, there is three benches around the large fountains, and one of these is occupied with two students: both dark haired girls in the usual blue uniform of cadets, giggling amongst themselves. They don't seem to notice the doctor and I, and so I don't take it for granted. I quickly lower my head again, being careful not to look suspicious.  
  
It's quiet, all except for the giggling from the girls. The rest of this huge chamber is being drowned in it's silence, and if it weren't for the situation, I'm sure I'd enjoy such quiet. But now, with all that's going on and could happen, I worry. If I were to be caught. . .  
  
The sound of feet running against the tile of the floor alerts me instantly to the fact that I may be in trouble. I freeze on the spot, my eyes wide with fear. Uncertainty grips me, and this is the result, a total lack of motion. If I run, I'll be even more suspicious. If I stay, and they really are coming for me, I'll be caught soon.  
  
Why can't things be more simple?  
  
Kadowaki has noticed now too, and she grabs my arm pulling me down the hall with her as fast as she can go. Soon I find myself running without her encouragement, speeding down the hallways a few steps ahead of the doctor. A brief glance behind me reveals exactly what I have feared. . .It's two of my guards, or at least I think they're my guards. Kinda hard to be sure, since all I've ever seen of them is when the door happened to be open just enough. . .And Times like that only came around when Kadowaki was visiting me.  
  
They're running after us, one of them shouting something or other, I can't be sure, he's got some strange accent, and I don't have enough 'Galabadian' to know exactly what it is. Either way, not only are they chasing us, their weapons (a gun of some sort, and a short sword-like blade) are drawn and they're attracting unwanted attention.  
  
We race down the circular hall, the men slowly catching up to us. I could out run them if it wasn't for-  
  
"Go," Kadowaki huffs, "That hall on the right, follow it down to the very end. He's right in the room at the end." She drops back, and a quick glance over my shoulder shows me that they let her by, parting to make way. They close back up together seamlessly, and by their actions, I think they've both been well trained, and together during their lessons. They'd pretty much have to be, to be so perfect in their movements. However, I do have one advantage over them. . .  
  
With Kadowaki behind now, nothing's stopping me from running full speed. I quickly gain distance between me and my pursuers, concentrating only on the hall which Kadowaki directed me to. There's some more shouting, but it is faint in my ears, the sound of my blood pounding and my excited breath drowning out almost any other noise.  
  
As I near the intersection in the halls, I turn so sharply that I skid on the nicely polished floor and almost tip over, more horizontal than verticle, before running again in a fraction of a second. I can hear the others still chasing me, though it's still kinda faint. My heart is beating hard with the possibility of getting caught. . .Who knows what they would say then? Quistis, or whoever's in charge could easily stage it so that during my escape I was killed, and then say it was an accident or in self-defense.  
  
In my distraction, I have hardly any Time to react to the sound of a large cracking sound. No, not large. Booming would be a far better word. There's the beginning of a flash (from where or what, I don't know), and I instinctually dodge, rolling at a bit of a right angle just in Time to avoid a bolt of lightning (an actual bolt), soaring past my head and into the ground. There's another large crashing sound, and I risk a quick look.  
  
There's a small indent in the flooring of the hall, it's remnants still smoking.  
  
"HOW?!" one of my pursuers shouts, the female voice harsh and jagged. The other one, the one with the strange accent starts talking to his female companion, but again I can't make it out. He does seem to be repeating the words 'ya know?' a lot, though.  
  
I look back ahead, trying to keep focused. I don't want to get distracted again and possibly get a bolt to the head.  
  
Heh, a smiting fest. . .Maybe someone is trying to tell me something?  
  
I shake those thoughts out of my mind, returning my eyes to the steadily approaching door. I'm sure this is where Kadowaki was talking about, as there were no other doors in this strange, hallway with so many window openings.  
  
Kind of reminds me of those areas in the Monastery. . .  
  
I try to come to a stop in Time, but the polished floors make me slid right into the door, smacking into it hard with a loud thud. It doesn't really matter, as I am soon fumbling with the metal knob. It eventually clicks (just about taking an eternity), and I jump into the room, closing out the sound of shouting behind me.   
  
If only I knew how to lock it. . .  
  
It doesn't take me long to spot where Squall should be. All there is in the room is a messy desk, a door leading to other rooms (I can sorta see in through a window there), and another doorway in the far corner of the room. I run over to it, quickly checking inside. This is where they were keeping Squall last Time, so I assume this is where he is again.  
  
And I'm right.  
  
He's laying there, looking somewhat dazed, but quite alive. This Time, there are no machines attached to him, and just a few bandages around his bare torso. The rest of him is under a pale green blanket.   
  
At the sight of me, his head jerks slightly, a frown of confusing coming over him, "Link?"  
  
"Heh, yeah. . ." Damn this is awkward, "So, you uh. . .feeling better?"   
  
"Yes, but why are you here?. . .No, scratch that. HOW are you here?" he shakes his head, as if trying to clear out that confusion, "I. . .I thought. . ."  
  
I cross my arms and try to give him an 'I-told-you-so' look, "I did say to you-"  
  
"Yeah. . .But, I. . .I was under the impression that I was-"   
  
"Just going crazy? No, Squall, you're still very sane. As much as a person your age can be after living the life of a mercenary. Now-" the sound of the door being opened almost violently interrupts me, "-I might need your hel-" Two strong pairs of arms wraps around me, the first getting my neck, and the second securing my arms, "-urk!"   
  
"Rajin? Fujin? What are you doing to him?" The girl, the one holding my neck so tightly that I am having a hard Time rasping, never mind breathing, tightens her grip at the mention of their names. After that run, my lungs are already slightly short, and I also didn't have the Time to get a fresh breath of air.  
  
"ORDERS." The answer is sharp and complete, leaving no real room for a response or question.  
  
"Who's orders?" Squall asks, pulling himself up into a sitting position against the headboard and crossing his arms. He's quite the imposing figure, now that I see him like this.  
  
"QUISTIS. XU."   
  
"Really?" he seems to muse on this for a moment, "What do they want with Link?" I see an eyebrow arch, and despite my serious lack of air (this girl is strong, and without my arms. . .) I find myself with a ghost of a smirk on.  
  
"DANGER. THREAT."  
  
"A threat?" He looks at me, "Link, are you- Damnit, Fujin, let him go." The tight arms encircling my neck are suddenly gone, and I find myself gasping for air, almost devouring it, "Link, are you a threat?" There's a bit of a mocking tone (slight though, he never did show much emotion, not even around Rinoa) in his voice, but not directed at me.  
  
"Me?. . .Threat?. . .Never. . .Can't be, not when. . .I'm locked in a room. . .for like four days straight!" I try to end it with a bit of enthusiasm, but it comes out more like a rush for more air. I've almost doubled over, actually, I'm sure I would have, if it were not for this 'Rajin' character still holding my arms. He's moved behind my back, holding me like those handcuffs did days before.  
  
If the girl was strong, then I'm thinking this guy is even stronger. . .  
  
"Now," Squall says diplomatically, "What did he do that incited such worry from Quistis and Xu?"  
  
"He was there, when you was attacked," a heavy male voice from behind me states. It's the guy with an accent (Rajin, I guess), and it's a bit difficult for me to understand, but I manage this Time.  
  
"And that warrants his attack how?"  
  
"Uh. . ." Rajin stammers and there's a long pause, until a new voice interrupts.  
  
"It doesn't" everyone else looks at the new speaker, but I can't. I can, however, hear who it is. Thank the Goddesses for Kadowaki, "So, let him go." Rajin grumbles but complies, allowing me to have back the control of my arms. I flex them carefully, glad to see that the stiffness that was growing in my arms was just from the awkward position. I turn back to face the large brown man, trying not to glance at his strange taste in clothing.  
  
"Thanks."   
  
He nods, a bit of a frown on his face, but in my mind I just dismiss it.  
  
"Does this mean I get to stay out of that little room?" I ask, turning back towards Squall, and he nods, "Yes! No more little room for me!" Suddenly I receive a sharp smack to the back of the head, temporarily throwing me off balance. Just a little.  
  
"IDIOT."  
  
"Yeah," Rajin continues for his (I'm guessing) speech troubled friend, "Ya ain't off the hook yet. We've got to run this by the management, ya know?"   
  
"No, I don't," Squall replies, "But last I knew, I was above Quistis and Xu in the ranks-" a bit of a dangerous tone develops in the Gunblader's voice, causing all of us to look at him in surprise, "-and I intend to have my say. He's free to roam around on his own. That means; no more confinement, no accompanying him, and no spying on him. I trust you two to deliver my message to the 'management'."  
  
A smile returns to my face, and I make sure to take a few steps away from my former guards. Rajin's looking at Squall with surprise and disbelief in his eyes, while Fujin looks rather. . .expressionless. I think, actually, she could compete with Squall in a staring contest, and have a good chance. Both of them seem rather. . .placid.  
  
"How's we gonna do that?" Rajin asks, waving a hand in front of his face in a rather strange manner, "They sent us to keep him restrained with 'whatever force', uh-"  
  
"NECESSARY."   
  
"Yeah! And if we come back without him. . ."  
  
"Well then, if they give you trouble, send them down to see me." Kadowaki interjects, stepping into the small room and standing beside the bed. She crosses her arms too, almost in a mimicry of Squall's earlier actions, "But for now, you two get out of her. I've got an injured patient to care for."  
  
Rajin's head bows with worry, and both of them leave. The room is silent until we can hear them leave completely, closing the door behind themselves. Then Squall turns back towards me, raising an eyebrow again.  
  
"So. . .You are going to have to tell me exactly what happened. And not the crap story you gave everyone else; I want the truth, and I want it now." His voice isn't harsh, just commanding, so I take a seat in the chair next to his bed.  
  
"What about the doctor?" I ask, and he shakes his head.  
  
"Doctor Kadowaki can listen if she wants, but she must not repeat anything she hears. We need to get our stories straight, otherwise Xu will have my head," he shakes said body part for a moment, "And she's not the nicest person when she's questioned, even if I am a higher rank then her. It's best to do things by the books when dealing with her."  
  
I nod, "Um, you sure you want-"  
  
"Yes," he interrupts, "the WHOLE fucking truth. Doctor, you may wish to pull up a chair. This could take a while."  
  
"Well," I sigh, trying to think over the sound of a chair scraping the floor loudly, "Where to start. . .?. . .We were at the field, looking for this so called monster. You were so sure that I was trying to trick you that. . ."  
  
~*~   
  
A/N: Finally. Sorry, this should have been in with the last chapter, now that I think of it, but oh well. Here it is now. I hope it's satisfactory, I've tried to make it good.  
  
There won't be much excitement coming up, seeing how the only real battles will be any lessons in the Training Center. . .but, hey, this will only last for like three chapters or so. . .Very important, character building chapters. . .  
  
Oh, yes, Rajin and Fujin will be better described later on, in further chapters for those of you who haven't played the game. I hope I spelt their names right, but I usually end up screwing that up .  
  
I'm using the The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition Copyright © 2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company "A feeling of anxiety or apprehension often accompanied by depression." definition of angst, focusing more on the depressing part. I know it's not very depressing. . .I wish there was the category of 'attempted angst', but I've got to learn some time, so I might as well begin now. . .If you guys got any suggestions, please suggest away! I'd appreciate the feedback.  
  
Okay, that's that. Um. . .hm. . .There will eventually be a few Original Characters in this, but not now. . .later. Sorry about any spelling mistakes in the A/N, but like I said, at the time of posting, I didn't have a spellcheck handy. . .I think that's it, so see ya later, when you review! BWHAHA! 


	19. Chapter XVIII Memories

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XVIII - Memories  
  
~*~  
  
I stare down from my position above the stream, swinging my feet slightly while I sit atop the bridge. The waters ripple, distorting the image of me. Colors mingle and shapes twist in the constant swirl.  
  
I'm thinking about a lot of things actually - I'm not just staring at the water. I'm thinking about things in the past, and ways I could have handled them that would have given a better outcome. Thing's I've done wrong, and how I could have fixed them.  
  
My finger tips claw at the edge of the bride, picking away at the wood until a small piece of wood finally cracks off. It's just a sliver, maybe half an inch long, but it will do. I toss it towards the river, watching it fall only a few feet from my hand. It was too light to go far, but it's all I had handy.  
  
Mental note: next Time, find some rocks to throw.  
  
////  
  
My hand reaches down for my sword, my finger tips burning at the heat of the metal. I guess that it's to be expected, since I'm inside a place that could be easily called a volcano.  
  
Or Hell.  
  
I ignore the pain in my hand as I firmly grasp the bloody hilt, lifting it off the ground and by my side, angled towards the ground. There's sweat and blood in my eyes, and my right hand quickly moves to clear it away. I do so, trying to keep an eye on my opponent, but right now he's not doing much of anything - just staring at me, his face twisted in a malevolent grin.  
  
\\\\  
  
The darkness of the waters below starkly contrasts the bright fires of memories in my mind. I can almost feel the heat. . .The death. My fingers again rip away at the edging, trying to pull free another sliver of wood. I hardly notice when I push too hard, and the sliver finds it's way into my skin, the small prick causing me to bleed lightly.  
  
////  
  
Shield and sword again in hand, I begin circling the beast. Soon, he follows in a similar fashion, the two of us with our eyes locked upon each other, circling each other like cats in the alleyways back home. His breath comes in rough gasps, the wounds on his large chest giving him pain. I'm just about wheezing now, my bruised ribs making it hard to breathe. His attacks have sure rattled me, and on more than one occasion his large claws have sent me flying across the room. I'm not bleeding, but I'm bruised and burned.  
  
My shoulders are sagging, the weight of my equipment (much lighter then it used to be) seeming to drag me down to the ground. I fight back the urge to sleep, to just collapse right here and continue the fight when I'm better rested. The scaly red form of Diablo doesn't look much better. Somehow, despite the incredible size difference, I've managed to scar him up pretty good, and he's bleeding a small flood on the ground beneath us.  
  
A half snarl escapes the lizard-like lips of my foe, his human voice and form now gone. He can still talk, but no longer in the way of mortal men. . .He talks through the mind, like his brothers now, or so it seems. . .Sometimes it's hard to tell, his taunts seem to both come from his mouth and from my mind.  
  
{You will never win,} he hisses, and I charge, running over rough and uneven ground towards him.  
  
\\\\  
  
The water is hardly disturbed at all by the falling sliver. . .It's moving far too fast for something that small to make any kind of a ripple. . .Hm. . .I guess it wouldn't be wise to work a screw loose to use instead of these slivers.   
  
With a sigh, I return my gaze back to the waters below. . .  
  
////  
  
He straightens somewhat as I near him, his claws moved into a defensive position. I continue forward still, not caring about any of the possible consequences of a head on attack. Sure, he could slice me into little itty bitty bits, or, he could just simply manage to eat me, but-  
  
I hit the ground in a roll as one large claw swipes at my head. It misses, though just barely, and I quickly spring back into my running. I can't stop, unless I want to get hit. I travel around the large mass that is Diablo, and he vainly tries to follow my movements, but I'm a lot faster and smaller than him.   
  
He roars, before swinging a claw about his body. While I don't get the sharp pointy end, I do get hit to the side by the back of his claw. I go flying some feet away from him, my body coming very close to falling off the edges of that suspended pentagram shape. . .It's supposed to be some demonic symbol, held up only by small connections at the tip of the star shape to the ground around it. It's a dark metal, being held over a bright lake of lava. . .  
  
Oh yeah. Damn evil enough.  
  
I just manage to roll to the left as Diablo's large, scaly (and clawed) foot comes down where my head was moments to go. The metal beneath the beast's foot seems to actually distort a little, as if his weight alone is mutilating it's shape. I don't take the Time for more observations, as he's already beginning to move again.  
  
And I'm so tired. . .  
  
\\\\  
  
I can hear the voices of some students training nearby, but I don't pay them much attention. Why should I? This IS the training center after all, so it's not hard to see why they would be here. I can't help but notice, however, that it is blatantly obvious that they are losing. . .badly. And the monster they're fighting. . .It's not roaring, so it can't be one of those mighty T-rexsaurs. . .  
  
And if they are losing to a Grat, as I think they are, then they deserve to be. . .uh, I don't know? Slapped? Beaten? Mocked? Something humiliating, anyway.  
  
Either way, it's not much of a concern to me.   
  
I shake my head, and soon again my eyes are trained down at the flowing waves beneath me. . .  
  
////  
  
"You're doing it all wrong!" Malon says, from beside me, as I backflip over one of Diablo's claws. I can feel the back of my legs brush against his scaly skin, but I still make it. As I land (and just before I begin running again, to look for another opening) I catch sight of the lovely redhead standing there, her hands behind her back, swaying slightly. . .Kind of like how she used to when she sang, just not so much.  
  
[How am I doing it wrong?] I hiss mentally, approaching Diablo's back. Now that he's got one arm badly maimed from a previous attempt to slash me, he's given up doing that little spin attack of his. Now, he raises one hand (the other's too gimped for him to move it now) and I sprint across the ground, feeling the ground come up underneath my feet. Once whatever the danger was has passed, I skid to a stop to take a quick look.  
  
A small circle of vertical (but somewhat curved) bones has erupted from the ground, and it would have been a great prison; too high to jump out of (unless you're some damned Sheikah) and not much space to move horizontally. He would have had me trapped.  
  
"You're supposed to kill the monster! Kill Diablo! Kill the man, the human who has befouled these lands! Have HIS blood on your hands as well! Kill him, and end his terror, you say?" She giggles from somewhere on the other side of Diablo, but I don't have the Time to go and check where she is, "Admit it. You enjoy this. You have enjoyed every death that has been caused by you. . .You-"  
  
[I do not!] I scream in side of my head, some inner part of me reminding my body that there's still a very alive Demon in front of me, [I hate this! I don't want to kill him!]  
  
"Of course you do! You enjoy it, you love it, we all know that!" She laughs, and I shudder, for some deep down part of me knows that she's right.  
  
\\\\  
  
"Ahh!"  
  
The scream breaks me from my memories, and I snap my attention in it's direction. It sounds like it's coming from those students from earlier. . .I can't see them from here, they're somewhere around a bend in the path up ahead, and the brush is too thick to see through. From the sounds of it, they might be in trouble, though I doubt that. I still haven't heard a-  
  
The large roar that echoes through the complex silences my thoughts where they were. Only a T-rexsaur sounds like that, as it is the only monster around here besides Grats, and I'm quite sure plants can't roar.  
  
And if it is a T-rexsaur (and I'm very sure it isn't anything but), then they are in some severe trouble.  
  
Maybe I should help them?  
  
"Oh, what a great idea genius!" I hear the clapping of hands beside me, accompanying Malon's sweet voice, "Who would have ever-"   
  
I interrupt her by simply getting up and dashing towards the signs of a fight. Unless she has decided to suddenly be quiet, then she must have stayed behind, for there is no noise but the sounds of battle ahead. A smirk finds it's way to my lips quickly as the situation is unveiled.  
  
In a clearing there stands three students, a female and two males, but it's not them that I'm concerned with. Around them circles three Grats, as if caging them in. The plant-like monsters a really a strange sight. They have small legs, probably four or five right underneath their eggplant like body that stands at about five feet tall. They have no form of a neck, just a gaping maw that resembles those strange fly catching pants my Fairy-  
  
(Navi, her name was Navi.)  
  
-used to show me while we were in the Kokiri Forest. Several large tentacles whip around their heads slowly, the limbs themselves looking rather thin and frail. These things dance almost around the cadets, caging them in, and just outside the circle of plants stands a great, mighty beast.  
  
I spent probably around five years as a passenger in Squall's mind, and through all that Time, there are certain things I remember quite clearly. Things like Ultimecia, the Dragon Bahamut, the War of the Gardens, and last but not least, Squall's first battle with a T-rexsaur. The creature, a giant red and black (the skin running along it's back is back, and that color seems to have leaked down over various areas of it's red sides) reptile stands at some twenty feet tall, and around forty feet long. It's head alone is about five feet in length, and the teeth in it's jaws could easily pierce a person's flesh like butter. It's immense tail also poses a threat, being like pure muscle, it can also be a handy weapon for the giant creature.  
  
The T-rexsaur is just standing there, it's eyes singling out what student to attack. I'm quite surprised that the beast is working together so strategically with the Grat. I thought the plants were just food for this ferocious reptile.  
  
One hand goes up for my sword as I continue running. My footstep is so light that neither human or creature seems to notice my approach, but that is another one of those great advantages to being an Elf, not a Human. My wondrous entrance is however ruined as the T-rexsaur finally takes notice of my swift form.   
  
I know that by the way it looked at me and roared.  
  
It turns towards me, but by then, I'm already in striking distance, and this is well proven by the large cut I leave in it's hide, and the blood that flows so freely from it. White medic-like clothes are stained (I haven't had a chance to change into something more. . .unwhite) with a fierce crimson, but it's not like I'm going to start complaining.  
  
Blood actually has. . .a beautiful look to it. It. . .immortalizes things, and yet proves their frailty.  
  
My mind is being flooded by the usual thoughts about life and death and everything in-between, the battle field and the sounds of swords clashing, but I forcibly shake it clear. I cannot afford to lose focus now, not when something as strong as a T-rexsaur is ready to chase me about like a cat after a mouse.  
  
Soon that beast is turning around rapidly, trying to knock me down with it's tail, but it takes nothing more than a simple, well Timed jump to clear the obstacle. I soar over it with ease, landing back down just in Time to send a nice slash to the things hip. There's of course another roar of pain, and the thing snaps at me.   
  
I jump back and take a brief look around. The cadets have seemed to regained their bearings and courage, and are now trying to fight off the Grat on their own. Out of the two boys, the one with black hair has some kind of a gun like weapon, while the one with brown hair has a halberd. The girl, a lovely looking young lady of pale skin and raven black hair is wielding a dagger of some sorts. . .As unformidible as a single dagger is, it seems to fit her. . .It's a kris styled dagger, probably seven to eight inches long and a wavy blade.  
  
Something tells me she's a real magic user. . .  
  
The sound of snapping jaws reminds me that I am facing a giant lizard with very sharp teeth, and I look again to see that the T-rexsaur is charging, it's head low to the ground, looking ready to scoop me up and chew me good.  
  
I raise my blade, gripping it with both hands, and I point it towards the monster, perfectly horizontal. The thing opens wide and I lunge forward, seeming to almost float across the ground. I strike forward, forcing so much strength into my arm that almost just that one movement seems to hurt my muscles in my arm.   
  
If this hits, it's sure to be fatal. . .  
  
Of course, the T-rexsaur just has to choose then to snap it's jaws shut, clamping it's teeth on my blade.  
  
What luck.  
  
I am hoisted in the air (to stubborn to let go), dangling from my blade. The beast rises up to it's full height, apparently expecting me to fall off. When I don't, it then decides that this would be a great Time to try shaking me off. I swing from side to side as the T-rexsaur whips about it's head, my hands clutching the hilt so tightly it hurts.  
  
Finally, the beast seems to realize that I'm not going to let go, so it stops to ponder how to get me off. It can't snap me, and unfortunately it seems to realize that it can't just eat me (if it were dumb enough to open it's mouth, I would be free and still in possession of my sword), so I hang here, the hot, moist breath of the beast raining down on my head.   
  
Growing tired of my damp situation, I begin to wonder myself if there is a way out of this with my sword. I'm not that comfortable being this close to the thing's teeth. . .Just the thought of jaws that size makes me wonder what would happen if he were to try tossing me into the air and catching me. . .  
  
Before he can think of that, I better move. Swinging my body a little, I am able to get enough momentum to get up and on top of the blade, like I did with those golems before. . .Except for the fact that this is a monster of flesh, not of stone. Ignoring such little thoughts and factors, I turn my thoughts to other things. Like is it possible for me to pull my weapon free, without falling? Could I somehow get on top of him?  
  
Suddenly, the beast seems to grow tired with this fruitless standstill, and so throws me (and my sword) by opening it's mouth and swinging it's head hard. I go flying. . .landing on the ground. . .sliding against the hard path. . .The stones and pebbles creating annoying scratches on my face.  
  
Giving my head a brief shake to clear the spinning images, I pry my face from the dirt and look up.  
  
Gleaming fangs charge towards me, propelled by the large feet of the T-rexsaur. With precious little Time, I roll to my left just as the jaws snap inches away from me. I leap back to my feet, instantly running. Running anywhere, as long as I get away from those teeth, and who says I can't do some damage along the way?  
  
I raise my arm and. . .And I realize that in order to do damage, one must have their weapon in hand.  
  
I must have dropped my weapon when I was thrown.  
  
The beast is trying to follow my process around it's body, but I'm far to fast for it. And too clever. As it turns around, trying to follow, I suddenly stop and switch direction, giving me a quicker route to get to the other side of the T-rexsaur. It doesn't realize immediately, and continues in it's erroneous path, but I really don't check to see when it's brain (if it has one) kicks in.  
  
In the dirt, only several feet from where we have been playing roundabout, lays my sword. It's gleaming blade shines in the light from the electric ceiling lights.  
  
I run towards it, and I know that the T-rexsaur is right behind me, again trying the swallowing method. I know that I don't have much Time, and that I have got to move fast. How do I know this? No clue.  
  
I dive - it's not far but Time is lacking - and I hit the ground in a roll, somehow managing to pick up the weapon along the way. Whirling around, I can only raise the weapon in Time to block the beast's attack. I've raised the blade vertical, and even with this creature's gaping maw, it's too long to fit in, thus preventing the inhalation of me.  
  
Something finally goes right, though I should probably not say that just yet.  
  
Though this is not the best Time, I take a look at the others. They've got the Grat all down but one, in which the two males are working on furiously. However, I notice that the raven haired girl is staring at me with something akin to concern. Which, I suppose, is understandable.  
  
Though a T-rexsaur is hard, these people know how to fight one, and therefore, a good fighter will know how to take one on. They're still hard, though. An Afflicted is easy for me, because I have fought them so many Times before that I know their patterns. The only reason that I could defeat the creature while the others couldn't was because they didn't know about it's super tough hide, and how to pierce it. This is the first Time I've ever fought a T-rexsaur, so I don't really understand it's movements and strikes as well as Squall or Seifer would.  
  
There's a jerk that brings me back to reality, and I see that the T-rexsaur has pushed me back a little before pulling away. He takes a step back (and I use the opportunity to stand up) and I can only watch as he begins walking away. There's confusion on my face. At least, there is until I understand what's going on.  
  
The thing wasn't walking away, it was swinging it's tail at me. The long limb hits me in the side, throwing me to my left. . .Some battle honed part of my mind reminds me that I've been hit in the direction of the students, but for the most part I'm trying to ignore the pain in my ribs.  
  
I roll through the dirt (and some mud) till I finally come to a stop, who knows how far from where I've started. It doesn't really matter, I suppose, but whatever. I've got to be able to get up before I can fight, and with the way my right side is feeling, I'm wondering if I haven't been paralyzed.  
  
"Maybe if you tried moving, you would find out," Malon's voice states, but I can't see her. Doesn't matter whether she is or not, I think as I push myself to my feet. It's a bit hard, as I think if I haven't broken something (not enough pain for that, not even close) that I must have bruised something. There's a searing pain every Time I move the muscles in my side, but I've felt far worse. . .  
  
With the slow while it's taking me to get up, I wonder why I haven't been attacked yet.  
  
A roar answers my questions, but it is not one of pain. Sounds more like one of frustration, then again I am no T-rexsaur expert. I look and there, between me and the reptile stands the girl, her arms extended. . .I can see that she's been using magic, as the T-rexsaur's feet are encased in ice, holding it to the spot.   
  
The girl looks over her shoulder towards me, shouting, "Hurry up! I can't hold him for long!" I nod, and I force myself back on to my feet fully, ignoring my aches and pains. It's not a far sprint, but her words have motivated me to move as fast as I can. She's the only thing standing between me and the T-rexsaur, and if that beast gets free, it will surely go after her. She'd be an easy meal.  
  
As I run past the girl and to the T-rexsaur, the ice finally shatters, and I think I heard the girl fall to her knees or something. . .It's hard to be sure, as the footsteps of the T-rexsaur are loud and echoing.   
  
I breeze past the thing, till I am a good twenty feet ahead before turning around and facing it again. Hopefully it's still following me and not going after the girl, otherwise I'll be too far away to help.  
  
"But you're always too far away. . ."  
  
I blink, forcing Malon's words away from me. I don't need to hear them now. I need to concentrate.  
  
Luckily (wow, luck, for once), the T-rexsaur is approaching, it's mouth open wide and ready as it charges, again in that scooping position. The smirk has returned at last, and I run to meet it.   
  
The distance closes, and I can vaguely hear someone yell - it might be that girl, but it sorta sounds like Malon - and at that last few feet, I put all my momentum to the right, moving away from those dangerous jaws. The T-rexsaur tries to catch me at the last second, but I'm moving too fast and it misses. Once I am far enough away from those teeth to warrant a safe return, I jump back into it's path.  
  
To do this, I am going to have to move damn fast, if I want to survive.  
  
Again I in font of the creature, at least in front of it's main body. Though the head and neck have passed me by, the rest of the body is open to attack. And as I know well, the heart is an excellent target.   
  
I plunge my blade into the T-rexsaur, and it goes completely still, a growl of some sorts escaping it's mouth. I twist the deeply embedded blade, and that growl increases, but I think I've still not done enough damage. If I want to kill this thing, I have to go deep. I push harder, feeling bone break and crack as I get past the ribs. . .It's hard, this thing is really thick boned. . .But it suddenly gives way, and the body goes limp.  
  
As much as my battle instinct tells me not to leave my blade, I have no other choice. If I am to stay - and I can assure you, I'm not - that would mean certain death by crushing weights. Too my surprise (luck strikes again), the beast topples with a bit of an angle, giving me a fraction of a second to dodge to the side, my ribs protesting every movement. The body crashes to the ground, seeming to drop in slow motion.   
  
Once the creature has been completely downed, I walk over to it's dead body very slowly. It's not that I don't trust it's death (anything would have difficulty surviving such an attack, and besides, it isn't breathing), but every little step is sending a wave of pain to my ribs, more than likely bruised. I'm actually very surprised I didn't reopen anything during that battle.  
  
My blade is easily accessible, sticking out from the thing's chest boldly. For some strange reason, it kind of reminds me of those slivers I was picking at earlier, though I don't really know why.   
  
When I turn around again it's because of the sound of approaching footsteps, three pairs of them, if I am hearing things right. The cadets stand there, their usual blue uniforms stained with some kind of green ichor. . .It looks rather disgusting, and I try my best not to make a face at it. The girl from earlier seems rather untouched, but a little tired. They stand in front of me in a straight line, as if at attention.  
  
"Thanks," the boy with brown hair mutters, scratching the back of his head rather nervously. He reminds of Squall somehow, rather withdrawn, though not nearly as much. This is only heightened when the black haired boy gives him a rather subtle (but still noticeable) elbow to the ribs. The boy with brown hair flinches away from the movement, before continuing, "Uh. . .I'm sorry to have dragged you into this, but thank you for helping us. We won't forget it. . ."  
  
"It was amazing. . ." the boy with black hair comments, before giving us a dismissing wave, "Thanks, but we've got to go and report the dead T-rexsaur. . .The management will want to move it before it starts to decay." I nod, and soon they are moving away from me, towards the exit of this place.   
  
The girl however, isn't so eager to leave. She looks at them, and then at me, and then at them once more. She walks over, right up beside me, and she whispers something into my ear. As she pulls away, I watch her leave, pondering her words as she disappears down the path.  
  
"I've got something important to tell you," she had whispered, "I will meet you later on tonight, when these two are gone, okay? It's important."  
  
I stare at where they were only a minute ago, wondering what could be so important. . .Why would she want to meet with me? I mean, most of the people around here are definitely not taking towards Elves very well, and I'm starting to wonder if I should be watching my step a little better. . .Couldn't hurt if I went to be with a knife or a dagger under my pillow.  
  
"Ah, all alone again," Malon suddenly states, interrupting the blissful sound of birds in the trees and of the now far away stream, "Though, you won't be alone for too long, if she is actually meaning to come and talk to you."  
  
"Psh, what's it matter?" I mumble, only partially aware that I am speaking out loud, "If she doesn't come, it's no big deal. Though, I am a little curious. . ."  
  
"Taking an interest in children now?"  
  
"Even if I was, I doubt she would be considered a child still. She must be just about eighteen or so."  
  
"Yeah, but you're over five hundred years old! Almost everyone is a child compared to you!" Malon giggles, and I sigh, rolling my eyes.  
  
"Why don't you go and find some other specter or something to bug, I'm not in the mood for your pestering."  
  
"Oh, you say that every time we talk," she replies, again with a giggle, "And besides, no one but you can see me anyway, so I can't bug anyone else. So, you're stuck with me, as a remembrance."  
  
"Mmhmm," I respond, heading back towards the bridge. I take one last look back to see the obvious signs of a struggle. . .The tracks where the cadets were fighting, and my own, near the giant footprints of the T-rexsaur. There's the marks of where I was thrown about, and the dampness where the ice melted. That, and of course, the large areas of drying blood, right next to the giant carcass. I shake my head, again returning to my spot on the bridge. Where the water flows and where I can think of things I have done.  
  
"Why do you want to think of such things, anyway?" Malon asks quietly, from somewhere behind me.  
  
I shrug, "So I don't forget and do it again, I suppose."  
  
There's silence from her end of the conversation, and of course, I don't press to continue. Once I reach my destination, I sit back down on to the wooden thing and hang my feet over it's edge. If I know most people, and I know a bit more than one would guess, someone will be along to talk to me shortly. Whether it's about the fight or about where I'm going to stay, I'm not sure. I'd prefer if they left me alone, however, since I want to finish my memories, but knowing my luck I won't get the chance for a while yet.  
  
It's only been about. . .Oh, I guess maybe four hours or so since Squall heard my story. He was surprised, to say the least. Kadowaki, who was still listening in, was shocked. She was beginning to ask me if I had bumped my head or something, but Squall believed me. I have no clue as to why he would believe me. I mean, well, it might be the fact that I was a voice in his head until a little while ago. Probably once you meet one of 'your' voices from your head face to face, well then, maybe you're just a bit more believing on more abstract things.  
  
"I've got something important to tell you," she had whispered, "I will meet you later on tonight, when these two are gone, okay? It's important."  
  
The words echo in my mind again, as I try to think of what she could have been talking about. What could important to me right now? I think the biggest thing going on, besides my battling, is the search to find a place for me to stay. What could she have been talking about?  
  
After several minutes of thinking and coming up with nothing, I shake the question from my mind. I will find out later, I suppose, unless she doesn't show. . .Though, I am curious as to where we are supposed to meet. After all, I'm not staying anywhere yet, so how could she know where to find me?  
  
Maybe she knows something I don't?  
  
I sigh, running a hand through my hair, the other again fumbling for something to throw. . .A sliver would be nice, if I don't have to turn my fingers to pincushions to get one. . .Then again, it's not like my finger tips have much feeling left in them.  
  
I feel myself want to return to my thoughts about the battle against Diablo. I was so foolish, I should have been able to dodge that attack of his. . .Then I could have at least tried to continue on, and not get sealed by Tyrael. Maybe I could have found a way home, a way back to the ones I loved. . .If I could just have done something different. . .  
  
////  
  
A giant claw swipes at my head, and I sidestep it just in Time. However, the second attack isn't so easy to dodge. The clawed hand comes down upon me, and I can't even jump away in Time. I've missed the brunt of the hand, all except for one talon, which has found it's way into and around my neck. The pain sears me worse than Diablo's fires, and as I fall several feet away, I raise one hand to my neck, trying to stop the bleeding. . .It won't work though.  
  
I'll be dead from blood loss soon. . .Very soon.  
  
I reach to my belt as I try to get back up. It's sort of hard, seeing how one hand is clamped around my open wound, but I manage it somehow. I pull out a potion, trying to ignore the pain from the movements of my shoulders, and I find out exactly how hard it is to uncork a bottle with only one hand.  
  
Why Diablo hasn't attacked again, I'm not sure, but I don't question my luck as the cork finally pops out. In less than a moments notice, the red liquid (tastes like some awful shit) is down my throat. I can feel it going to work, though I still have to quickly bandage my neck.   
  
With all that finally done and not yet another attack, I finally locate Diablo behind me. He's breathing heavy, his whole frame shifting and shuddering with every breath. He's hunched over, his one maimed arm hanging almost uselessly by his side, the blood encircling his scarlet scales. . .The pools of blood beneath him are ever growing. . .He may be weak, but I still can't figure out why he isn't attacking. . .A Demon can survive a lot more than just this, and I'm almost dead already.  
  
{A present. . .for the infidel. . .You'll enjoy it, even if it doesn't kill you,} his scaly lips change into something akin to a grin, {If you manage to escape with your life, give Tyrael my love, okay?} There's the sound of snarling laughter behind his closed lips, and he charges again. I jump to the side out of the way, grabbing my sword as I soar over it. I land hard, jarring just about every wound I have.   
  
At least. . .If I go down here, it won't be in the cowardly way that I fought Mephisto. . .But I didn't stand a chance back then. . .  
  
Maybe I still don't.  
  
\\\\  
  
"Mind if I sit here?" a feline voice asks from my left, bringing me back from my memories. I look up, and there stands Quistis, dressed in the usual black SeeD uniform. It's composed of a black jacket with gold gilded edges. As with all female uniforms, the bottom part is a skirt. All and all, the SeeD uniform has always stood out to me, as something. . .special. It looks so professional, yet there's a bit of a flare there, as if showing off skill.  
  
"No, I don't mind."  
  
She takes a seat beside me, being careful that her skirt doesn't get caught underneath her. There's a bit of silence in which I'm just staring out at the water, quietly wondering when she'll go away so I can finish my memories and maybe learn something, but she finally speaks up again:  
  
"I hear you took out that T-rexsaur," I nod, and she continues, "That's very impressive. Even our best have a hard time with one of them, and they don't often come back without wounds."  
  
I consider telling her that I did get injured, even if it was only a few bruises, but why should I? It's not like I need medical attention. The quickest and easiest way involves me just shutting up and waiting for her to finish completely.  
  
"Really?" I say, still looking out upon the river, "It wasn't all that hard."  
  
"I'm glad to see that you are not hurt, and thank you for helping those cadets. They thought they were safe in that area, as usually T-rexsaurs don't go over there. Such creatures like this area better."  
  
I shrug, "I haven't seen one, besides that one I fought."  
  
Silence again, this Time longer. The only other sounds are that of a dense forest area, mainly exotic birds. Finally, the Instructor sighs, straightening out her skirt with one hand nervously as she speaks, "I hate to have to ask you this, but. . .Well, the others think that you would make a great student, possibly even a good teacher in our institution. Would you like to join?"  
  
"Become a trainee here?" I frown and think hard, the dark waves becoming a backdrop for my thoughts. [If I were to train here, it would possibly supply me with new experiences. . .And it would also give me something to do. . .At least until I find out what I should focus on next. . .]  
  
Quistis, even though she is waiting patiently, is obviously beginning to get impatient about my answer. I wish not to take up too much of her Time, but I can't make such a decision so quickly. . .I've got to have a little Time to think on it.  
  
"Stalling again?" Malon states, appearing on my right, sitting in a position not completely unlike Quistis', "Not surprising though, it is one of the things you do best."  
  
[Shut up,] I mutter, [I need to think.]  
  
"Wow, succeed with that and it'll be the accomplishment of the year," in my peripheral vision, I can see a gleam light in her eyes, "Thinking was never your forte."  
  
"I. . .May I have some Time to think on this?" I look at the blonde instructor (doing my best to ignore Malon), and after a moment's hesitation she nods, "I just can't make such a decision too quickly."  
  
"Understandable," she gets to her feet, brushing off her skirt, "One other thing. At the Commander's orders, we have arranged a place for you to stay. You will be staying with Seifer Almasy."  
  
[No. . .Stupid luck. . .]  
  
"Thank you," I mumble, trying to keep my disappointment out of my voice, but I'm not sure it worked. She nods before walking briskly off towards the entrance. I watch her leave, then sigh loudly.  
  
Ever since I came back, there have been two people in particular that have been treating me like a criminal, even after Squall ordered my release. Those two would be Seifer and Irvine, the former even cussing and at one point he spat at me, in the hallways. He didn't hit me, as I was too far away before he even began, but I still got the point clear enough.  
  
Now I am going to be stuck with him? Wonder of wonders if I manage to survive the night.   
  
"Don't think you have much of an option," Malon murmurs, leaning back on her hands. I glance at her, taking in her fierce red hair, the blue of her eyes (not looking at me, but rather at the trees across from us). I've always found her so beautiful. . .Not the most beautiful (I can think of someone else who if I remember correctly, fit that description rather nicely), but still breathtaking.  
  
"Maybe not," I say, looking away, "But sometimes it's best to try." With that, I get up and walk away from the bridge, following the same path Quistis did only a few minutes ago. I head to the entrance, and I don't look back.  
  
Despite how badly I want to.  
  
~*~  
  
////  
  
Diablo charges me, finally going back on the offensive. I think I like it better that way. I don't have to run so far, and my legs are killing me as it is.   
  
There's various cuts all over my body, and many are bleeding. Most of the ones I got before I drank that potion are healed slightly, but the amount I have received after that is more then enough to make up for those repaired. My stance is uneven, as my left knee is in the process of some super slow buckling, and my shoulders are sagging heavily. My sword seems so heavy now. . .  
  
Despite said weapon's severe weight, I am somehow able to swing it upwards at his approach, nicking his chest, and then bringing it back down for a massive hit to the joint between the neck and the shoulder. The blade sinks into the scarlet scales of the monster, finally stopping several inches in.   
  
Diablo roars as I yank the blade out, taking a step away from me. I let my sword fall back into it's normal position, by my side at a slight angle towards the ground (or at least a crippled version of that position).  
  
The mighty Lord of Terror takes yet another step back, before rearing higher up on to his hind legs slightly. I know what's coming, but it's still all I can do to get my injured, whining body moving as a twisting stream of fire erupts up from the ground just in front of him, spreading across the cracked, dead ground of the Chaos Sanctuary. I move to my left and away from the beast, out of the range of the fire.  
  
Now this is the kind of power that would have made Gannondorf into a god among men.  
  
I face Diablo again, forcing myself to continue running, to close that distance between us. I expect him to get ready to attack or begin defending, but his reaction takes me completely by surprise.  
  
He grins, that serpentine face twisting into a mockery of human expression.  
  
And then he suddenly raises his arm (the other is obviously too ruined to be of any use) and a ring of fire forms around him, staying there for one brief second before shooting out in all directions.  
  
Including my direction.  
  
I skid to a stop, trying to think of a way out of this predicament, but there is only one thing that keeps coming into my mind.  
  
Duck.  
  
And I do, and I pray.  
  
\\\\  
  
A light tap at the door awakens me from my daydream (or, considering the Time, my 'night dream'), and I come back to myself, blinking wearily at the ceiling.  
  
It's surprising how tired memories and battles make you.  
  
The knocking comes again, and with a groan, I roll over and almost fall off the bed. My ribs and the surrounding muscles scream at the action, now sorer than before. I don't do anything in response though, at least, not beyond wincing. I just head to the door, wishing fervently that whoever it is will leave me to finish my thoughts, and then I can get some sleep.  
  
How Seifer's going to respond to seeing me crashed on the bed, I don't know.  
  
Maybe I should move to the couch before he gets back.  
  
My tired hands fumble with the doorknob, and the door eventually creaks open, revealing that young girl from before. Now that there is no ferocious man-eater trying to kill me, I can get a better look at her.   
  
Her hair is shoulder length raven black that blends in with the shadows behind her in almost an eerie fashion, her pale skin contrasting violently. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, though there seems to be a hint of red in them. . .She's still wearing her cadet uniform, one that I may too be wearing one day.  
  
"What di-"   
  
[One of my own, Malon.]  
  
"Can I help you?" I ask her, unable to keep the weariness out of my voice. Hell, I'm halfway through a yawn when she finally responds.   
  
"My name's Isabel, can I come in? It's rather important." I nod, moving to the side and extending one arm to lead her in. She walks past me with a touch of shyness, but I don't really care.  
  
I'm too damn tired to care.  
  
She walks into the center of the room, looking about briefly before facing me again. I'm halfway through another yawn, but I interrupt myself, feeling slightly rude.  
  
"Sorry, I'm a bit tired. Mind making this quick?"  
  
"Well. . .I. . .This might sound a bit odd." She looks down at the carpet, and I blink a few times, trying to resist the urge to just drop where I stand.  
  
"You coming and talking to me in the first place of your own free will is a bit odd at the moment," she looks at me questioningly, "Most of the other people in this place don't trust me, some even despise me."  
  
She gives a brief chuckle, her gaze again falling to the floor "People these days are that way. . .We're afraid of anything we don't know about. . ."  
  
"People have always been that way, even centuries ago," there's a bit of surprise at that remark, but she doesn't push it very far.  
  
"Well. . .I dream things, all the time. I used to just think they were dreams, but a few weeks ago, I dreamed of something completely new. . .I dreamed of you," she points to me, as if I wouldn't know who she's talking about, "I dreamed of your fight with that thing. . ."  
  
"The Afflicted?" she nods, "Ah. . .so you have the Sight."  
  
"The what?" she asks, and I stifle another yawn.  
  
"You can see things in your dreams. . .I bet this wasn't the first Time that your dreams came true, is it?" She shakes her head, "Then it's-"  
  
"The fight didn't happen exactly the way the dream did," she admits, "In the dream. . .There was this woman with bright red hair. . .You and her were talking. . .but I couldn't hear what you were saying. . .No one else noticed her."  
  
Malon. [Oh, how nice, see? Someone else can see you!] I shake my head for a moment, looking away as if thinking (I'm actually curious as to whether she'll answer or not, but silence is all she gives me), "Did everything else carry through?"  
  
"Well, I think so. . .I don't remember anything else that was off. . .Except there was something that I did hear."  
  
"And what was that?"  
  
"There was a voice at the end, but it wasn't speaking to me. . .It was speaking to you. It said something about. . .I think it was: "If you leave, you can never come back. Ever." I'm not sure, though."  
  
"I see. . ." If I leave, I can never come back? Why would I not be able to come back? Is this voice talking about Hyrule. . .Though it's a bit late, I would have loved that warning earlier. . .  
  
"Link, if I may," I acknowledge her with a nod, "I have a question. What exactly is this 'Sight' thing, anyway?"  
  
"'The ability to see the future through dreams and visions'," I recite in a near monotone voice, remembering Navi's definition of the word from the first Time I asked her, "Yours doesn't seem to be terribly strong, however. It isn't harmful or anything, not unless you are that well. . .connected, I suppose."  
  
"Connected to what?" she asks, and I shrug.  
  
"I don't know. The spirit world, the higher ups, I'm not really sure. It's actually a rather useful ability, though it can be a bit annoying sometimes."  
  
She cocked her head slightly to the side, "What? Do you have it?"  
  
"A little, though mine is weak or something. I haven't had a prophetic dream in years."  
  
"Oh. . .I'm sorry to have bothered you. . .I guess I'll see you another time, okay?" I nod, and she heads for the door, letting herself out. That information has done nothing more than laying another weight on my chest, and the sooner I sleep, the better. However, there's still the matters of a certain memory to finish.  
  
"Can't sleep until it's done?" Malon asks me, sitting on the couch, waiting for me. I sit down next to her, before spreading out and lying down, my legs going right through her, but she doesn't even seem to notice.  
  
Hm, I wonder why Seifer has a couch in his room in the first place.   
  
Squall never did.  
  
"Nope, now shut up," I mutter, closing my eyes and turning over, my clothes still on. Seifer will probably get mad at me for wearing my bloody clothes on his furniture. Oh well, at least the blood is dry.  
  
////  
  
I hit the ground, and I can feel the heat of the fire soaring over me. Somewhere behind me it hits a wall with a thud, followed by all the other fireballs crashing against something or another.  
  
I can't believe that worked. . .  
  
I look up just to see Diablo charging at me, his one claw raised. I roll to the side slightly, in hopes of dodging, but he just blocks my path by putting his foot down. I try a different direction, and he begins swiping, but as soon as I am at my knees, I spin to the left, using my sword instinctually.   
  
There's the squash of metal into flesh, and I can see (once I open my eyes) the blood flowing around the tip of my weapon, sticking into Diablo's chest. The beast just stares down at it, his face showing near human shock. I stare at it as well, surprised at how well my attack was aimed, and it seems like forever before I find the presence of mind to pull it out.   
  
The thing slides out smoothly, and Diablo's sights are still transfixed upon his wound. I watch him, worry about whether he will still attack me, or die (I'm hoping for the latter). Slowly, his triangular head looks back at me, and I flinch, ready for that sudden strike, but it never comes.  
  
{Y-you won. . .you may think you've won,} his lips stretch into a deadly smirk, {But you can. . .can never kill the Devil.}  
  
And then in a gruesome display of blood, guts, and living flame, Diablo is killed, leaving me to fend for my life against my horrendous wounds. It isn't long later that Tyrael finds me, helps me, and then traps me.  
  
\\\\  
  
{But you can never kill the Devil.}  
  
I blink slowly, the phrase repeating itself constantly in my head. He was right, I don't think I ever will be able to kill my Devil.  
  
It's a while before sleep takes me into that warm world of darkness and slumber.  
  
~*~ 


	20. Chapter XIX Illiterate

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XIX - Illiterate  
  
~*~  
  
For once, I am dreaming nothing. Not of Malon's demise, or of the fall of Hyrule. My head is a blank as I sleep, and I welcome that darkness. It surrounds me and binds me, holding me close and dear, and I allow myself into it's embrace, grateful for the lack of dreams. There I stay, unmoving and unwilling to do so, perfectly comfortable in this land of darkness where dreams and memories can no longer bother me. I am detached, removed, and glad of it.  
  
However, the feeling of shaking and talking begins pulling me from that world of unconsciousness, but I fight it. I roll over with a mumble, facing away from the intruder of my sleep. I will ignore them for as long as possible. . .I don't want to leave this realm of empty sleep.  
  
I realize that I'm given no choice when I can feel rough hands pressing down on my bruised ribs. I wince unwillingly, the pain contorting my face. The sudden blast of fire that the touch sent across my chest is enough to wake me up, but that doesn't mean I want to. I start to roll over yet again when I feel hands about my waist, grabbing at something, lifting up my shirt. . .  
  
My eyes snap open, "What the Hell?" I ask Seifer, who's in the process of pulling my shirt up and over my eyes, "What are you-"  
  
"Ah, so you didn't escape uninjured," I hear the words through the cloth of my shirt (that crappy medic outfit from yesterday still), "I knew it."  
  
"That's nice," I mumble as the shirt comes back down into it's normal position, "but I really don't think that warrants stripping a guy while he's still half asleep," Seifer looks on impassively while I wipe the sleep from my eyes. He's wearing what he always does, that white trench coat of his, over top that blue shirt with the silver cross.  
  
"What do you want?" I mutter after a moment, laying back down on the couch. He woke me too early, I'm still tired. . .  
  
"Kadowaki want's to see you," he says, his arms crossed before him, "And so does Selphie and Quistis."  
  
"That's nice," I say half heartily, the mere thought of the ever too bubbly Selphie already giving me the start of a headache, which will go along quite nicely with the pain from the bone crushing (not much left there for her to shatter) hug, ". . .When?"  
  
"Now." He suddenly grabs my left arm, hauling me off of my bed (couch) and to my feet. I have no choice but to comply, unless I want to be dragged across the floor and to the door on my ass. I stand with a yawn, raising a hand gingerly to try and rub some of the ache from my side.  
  
"Did you have to do that?" I ask, partially satisfied when I can no longer feel the nerve endings burn in my ribs.  
  
"Only way to wake you up, fucking lazy ass."  
  
"But sleep is good. . ." I mumble absentmindedly, blocking another yawn. He just shakes his head and sighs, walking over to the door.  
  
"Come on. It's a good thing you're going to see Kadowaki," a grin which I don't like (not like I like many grins) crosses his face, "That bruise looks like it could use some attention."  
  
I shrug, "It's just a bruise," I walk over to him, and he opens the door, one hand motioning for me to go through. I stare suspiciously at this almost formal gesture, eyeing first him, and then the door. Then him. I eventually give up and walk through, but his words stop me half way.  
  
"You got to be careful, huh?" He says, that smile from earlier suddenly gone, but soon replaced once his fist has found it's way into my ribcage. He didn't hit me very hard, but. . .  
  
"Ow. . .What the Hell?" I say through clenched teeth, trying not to double over.  
  
"Just proving a point, now, do you need me to show you where the infirmary is, or can you find it yourself?"  
  
"I. . .I think I'm good," I say, forcing myself to stand straight and hurry out of Seifer's reach.  
  
"Well then, get lost," he says calmly, closing the door with a slam. I stand there, staring at the closed entrance for a moment before my current task comes back to me. I've got to go see the Good Doctor again, and I'll be out of Seifer's way for a while. It all works out, I suppose, though I would have preferred it if the day did not start out with a punch to the ribs.  
  
The hall is empty, completely desolate besides me, making this place seem so much bigger. My footsteps echo in the dead halls, and if it weren't for the neatness of the place, I'd swear that I'm the first person that's been here for years. Where is everyone? How early did Seifer wake me up? The sun is up, but. . .  
  
Once I reach the circular hall, things have not changed. There is no one here.   
  
"I've seen livelier tombs, for Din's sake," I sigh, scratching the back of my head. With this place so empty, it seems like the infirmary is so far away. . .Almost like it's miles farther then it was before. . .  
  
"I bet my tomb would have been lively," Malon muses, suddenly phasing into existence beside me in a manner like she's been walking beside me all along, "So many people coming from all around to mourn my death. . .It's just too bad you weren't there."  
  
[I doubt that they would have given you a tomb, with the way you're acting,] I reply in a calm fashion, and I watch with mild (great) humor as her face contorts into some kind of death frown of doom aimed at me. I merely shrug (very slightly, so I don't attract attention) and roll my eyes, [What? It's true, you know.]  
  
"Well, either way, at least I know that someone mourned my death," she floats around me, coming in front of my face, hovering there so that her eyes fill my vision, ". . .You will die all alone, Hero." Her voice comes as a murderous whisper, and though I wish to turn away, I cannot stray from those eyes.  
  
Eyes that I fell in love with over five hundred years ago. . .  
  
Finally my will comes back to me, and I force myself to walk away, past her and through the door that leads to the infirmary. Malon does not follow, perhaps because she knows that I will not listen to anymore of her whisperings right now.  
  
Or, maybe because she knows that she's won this round. . .  
  
I find my way to that door eventually, the one that will lead me to Kadowaki (or Marie, or whatever she wants to be called). The door clicks open, a loud noise in this world of silence, and I walk in to see no one in sight. Not completely satisfied with this instant observation (she wouldn't call me down just to leave), I move towards the little room off in the corner. The one that they had Squall in while he was injured. Inside sits Kadowaki (who gives me a brief glance before turning around again) who is watching over a patient.   
  
For once second I think that it is Squall, and that he's somehow managed to injure himself beyond anything I've seen done to a person before.  
  
Or at least, a person who is still alive.  
  
It doesn't take me long to see that I am wrong. It's not Squall, it's just some other boy with brown hair. This kid (he looks awfully young) has bandages all over. . .On his chest, around areas of his head, his shoulders. . .He's not awake (conscious), and it's easy to see why. Beneath those bandages I can see the bright red of many lacerations, and to Kadowaki's side there is enough evidence to convince me that she's been changing bandages often.  
  
"He's going to make it," Kadowaki says, turning around again, "But barely. I'll call one of my assistants to look after him while I take a look at you."  
  
"What exactly are you looking for?" I ask as she gets up and moves to her desk, which is behind me. I step aside as she walks by, and for one moment I think that she has somehow managed to forget that I'm even here when she finally answers.  
  
"Oh, nothing really. I just want to see what kind of medical condition you are in," she replies, moving around to the back of her desk. She leans forward and touches some little blue thing, "Hello?" I stare at her quizzically, wondering what mental condition she's in, when a little static voice answers:  
  
"Yea?"  
  
"Send down someone, I need some help watching a patient."  
  
"Okay, someone will be there in just a minute."  
  
Kadowaki takes her hands off the blue box, "Sorry about that, now, if you'll just follow me," the Good Doctor leads me to the side wall where there is a door that I've never noticed before (it blends in rather well). She opens it without a second thought, and I follow, looking around as we enter the room. It's a plain white room, like any other part of the infirmary, except it's much larger though it still has a low ceiling. It holds a total of about ten to fifteen beds. None of them are currently occupied, so it's just the two of us in here.  
  
Us, and a few machines against the wall here and there.  
  
"That blood," she asks, her voice weary and distant, as if she's in a haze, "Is it yours?"  
  
"No, I was training yesterday."  
  
Kadowaki studies me for a moment, before nodding and motioning me to go over and sit down on a bed, and I do as she says, not really sure on what she intends to accomplish. I sit there like I should, when suddenly a question enters my head.  
  
"Hey, uh, where is everyone?"  
  
"Hm? Oh, they're in class, why?"  
  
"I just didn't see anyone when I was going through the halls," I say as she begins pulling my shirt up off my head, "What Time does class start?"  
  
"Seven thirty to - Holy Hyne boy!" The shirt comes off completely, and instantly Kadowaki is running her hands over my bruises, "What on earth happened to you?" She traces the large blood red and purple markings on my ribs, gently, as if afraid of hurting me.  
  
Thank Farore.  
  
"I got attacked by something in the Training Center," I mumble, watching as she motions for me to lay down. Again I comply, but this Time I have a feeling that I know what she's planning on doing.  
  
"You should have come here right away," she replies, pressing her hands down into my chest, "I'm just checking to see if anything's broken. . ."  
  
"I checked yesterday," I comment, wincing as her fingers come in contact with the center of the bruise, "There's nothing wrong, it's just a bruise."  
  
"What caused this?"  
  
"A T-rexsaur." I reply, near tonelessly, my breath light and cautious as her fingers probe the worst part of my injury.  
  
"You fought one? With who?"  
  
I want to answer that I fought the thing by myself, but that would sound. . .rather boastful, "Three cadets."  
  
"I see. . ." She studies me for a long while, before walking away from the bed, "Okay, well, you're right, there's not much I can do for that. . .So just becareful for the next few days. Now, as for the rest of the examination. . ."  
  
I sigh as she begins checking various things. . .This could be a long, long day. . .  
  
I sigh again when the thought of Selphie comes into my head.  
  
Yes, a very long day.  
  
~*~  
  
After an hour or two of persistent prodding, Kadowaki finally agrees that I'm fine, alive and well, and all that sort of stuff (though she says I'm a bit skinny). I'm rather glad, seeing as I actually made it out of there with enough mental energy left to survive an 'attack' from Selphie.  
  
I swear, that girl has got some unlimited energy or something. . .If they could focus that energy into a physical force, then countries would fall at their feet. Squall could testify to that. Though it hasn't happened often, there have been a few occasions where Selphie has deemed the situation grand enough to risk Squall's anger. She flies at her opponents, embracing them in a 'friendly' hug before they have Time to react.  
  
I hope she doesn't do the same to me.  
  
. . .Where did I get that idea, anyway?  
  
I mean, on regular circumstances, I could almost assure that Selphie would be on my case immediately, pouring her extreme love of all things righteous into some outrageously tight hugs.  
  
I know that, because I was with Squall for most of the Time that he knew her.  
  
But. . .I mean, how could I be so sure of how she'll act, since most of the Garden still doesn't trust me? She could just as easily tell me to get lost, or go to Hell, or something. . .  
  
I guess it doesn't really matter. . .I'm just going to have to wait and see.  
  
I tug the shirt that Kadowaki gave me (a new, pristine medic shirt) over my head, struggling not to hit into anything as I get the material away from my eyes. I manage rather well, staying rather clear from the walls, though I almost smacked into the door.  
  
I wonder where the Headmaster's office is. . .? Last Time I followed Seifer. . .  
  
"The elevator, in the center, remember? Third floor, end of the hall," Malon's voice repeats cryptically inside my head. I nod absentmindedly, ignoring the slight stare of Kadowaki's assistant. I walk down the halls of this institution, dodging my way through crowds of students all busy trying to get to their next classes or whatever. . .  
  
At least I didn't try this with my bloody shirt still on. . .I'm getting enough stares as it is. . .  
  
The roar of the students is louder than the soothing sound of the water fountains, and I find myself wishing that Kadowaki finished sometime between classes. Not much I can do now, so instead of complaining, I make my way to the central area, where the elevator is located.  
  
Though I had expected to wait in some lines, the entrance to the small elevator is completely desolate, enough so that I wonder whether the thing is out of order or not. I see no sign, or any form of a warning (not like I'd be able to read it anyway), and so, I activate the device like I have seen Squall do so many Times before.  
  
Squall. . .I wonder how he's doing.  
  
My thoughts are returned to the here and now when the sound of a tiny bell rings, and the doors open. I step inside the thing, able to feel it adjust to my weight (I do not like that feeling, I keep thinking that it's going to fall). The glowing of buttons greet me, and I press the top one.  
  
There's the shifting movement, and soon, the slight whirring sound of this machine moving is all the sound there is. I sigh, not liking the idea of this meeting. I don't know why, but no matter what I do, I can't help but think of what Selphie's going to do. Hell, I don't even know if she's going to be there, but in my mind there's really no doubt.  
  
Another bell, and again the door opens, showing a narrow, dark hall of several feet. Right across from me is a door, and as I open it, the darkness of the hallway falls back to reveal a large room with a high ceiling. Skylights keep it bright, shining light down on to the forms at the desk across from me.  
  
Selphie and Quistis.  
  
They stand there, with the raised section for the pilot of the Garden right behind them. Quistis, with her arms crossed, leaning against the desk. Selphie, a bubbly smile on her face, her hands behind her back. She seems unable to stand still, hopping from foot to foot. I blink, wondering how to handle the situation, but before I can think of anything, Quistis motions for me to come over.  
  
"Thank you for coming. We have looked over the reports," Reports? On what? "and we have decided that you would make a good SeeD candidate. Do you accept?"  
  
I lower my head to think. SeeD? Me? But. . .I've got nothing else. . .My friends are dead by now, I can't find my way home. . .I raise my head and nod, "Yes, I accept."  
  
"Alright then," a slight smile crosses Quistis' features, and I find myself wondering if she's going to 'like' me again, "That makes everything simple. Now there's only some paperwork you have to fill out, and then it's up to the testing."   
  
"Okay, fine. . .Wait! Paperwork?" I ask, though I already know that I didn't hear her wrong, "Wait wait wait, I don't 'do' paperwork."  
  
"What do you mean, you don't 'do' paperwork?" The Instructor asks, one eyebrow arched.  
  
"I think that he means he can't. . ." Selphie states, leaning forward slightly and studying my face, as if just looking at me will tell her all, ". . .You can't? Can't. . .read?"  
  
"Heh. . heh. . ." I scratch the back of my head, suddenly really nervous, "Well, you see. . .When I grew up, it wasn't expected that I would be of much. . .use. . .so I was never really taught how to read."  
  
A frown forms on both of their faces, and an uncomfortable moment of silence follows until at last Selphie looks up, a bright gleam in her eyes.  
  
"I know! We'll teach you how!"  
  
[Wow, it took you that long to figure that out, huh?] I mutter mentally, wishing that I could roll my eyes without drawing attention to myself.  
  
"Why don't you say that to her face?" Malon states from beside me, but she doesn't bother to 'grace' me with her presence. . .which, is fine by me. I'd prefer it if she never showed up in my life again (at least, not this fake version of her), but the chances of that happening are so low that they shouldn't even be considered.  
  
"Teach me how?" I repeat, watching as the light look of calm authority reappears on Quistis' face, "How?"  
  
"Ah, it won't be a problem!" Selphie replies, cutting off Quistis' attempted remark, "But first. . .Let's get you something better to wear. You look like a medic!. . .I bet Rinny can help! Let's go get her!"  
  
It's amazing (and frightening) watching Selphie go. . .hyper in so short of a Time, but I still manage somehow to mutter something, "But-"   
  
"No buts! When we're done with you-" she grabs my arm and starts hauling me down the way I came, back towards the elevator, "-you'll look so cool that they'll be forced to let you in!" She looks over her shoulder at the ever placid Instructor, "Right, Quisty?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure we'll be forced indeed," as Selphie turns back around and continues to drag me, I am just able to catch Quistis mouthing the words, 'Good luck.'  
  
'Thanks,' I reply, careful not to make any actual sound, 'I think I'm going to need it.'  
  
At first I am very pleased with how Quistis ended that (though I am not happy with my current situation, but there's not much I can do about that), but the smile that she gives me just before the door shuts behind us is not very reassuring.  
  
"She's in love with you again," Malon states, suddenly floating alongside me, ". . .Poor, poor naive child. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
Such a poor, insolent child. . .He will never know his true potential in such a state as he is. Looking at him, that foolish Hylain, now, I know that I must intervene soon. . .But there are so many ways. . .Bring up the horrors of his past? Destroy those who he is already beginning to bond with? So many choices!. . .And each one more favorable than the first.  
  
But now. . .Now is not the right moment to strike. Soon, soon when he has his precious status and friendships and whatever else is soon to be his. . .then I shall strike. Not now, no. . .Not yet. Things will be in motion soon, they always are, I suppose. . .This was nearly a respite of the storm.  
  
Damn that Tyrael. . .Slowing everything. Curse his bones! I will see that Angel in my grasp one day. . .His meddling has never been more than an annoyance. . .still. . .  
  
The time to strike comes soon. . .so close. . .so damned close I can almost taste it.  
  
Soon Hero, you will be trapped in a web from which there is no escape. . .  
  
Perhaps, you already are. . .  
  
~*~  
  
After seemingly hours of a mind numbing haze, Selphie, Rinoa, and myself arrive back at Garden. First thing I do (after taking the bags they have shoved into my hands), is head to the dorm room to get some sleep.  
  
Who knew that shopping, of all things, could take so much out of you?  
  
The fact that the dorm is technically Seifer's does not escape me. . .It's just. . .not all that important right now. I'm sure, that as I now reach for the knob, I'll probably run head first into him, and somehow manage to get into trouble-  
  
I open the door, halfway through an automatic flinch, but there's nothing (no one) there. It's empty and quiet, almost unnaturally so. . .I take a step in, listening carefully. . .  
  
I can't hear anything suspicious. . .  
  
I close the door quietly, moving as quickly and as silently as I can through the darkness, over to where the couch should be. Soon I am upon it, and feeling it out with my hands. . .There seems to be nothing wrong with it. . .  
  
Maybe I'm just being paranoid. . .  
  
I set down the bags next to the couch, forcing myself not to wince at the loud crinkling sound they make as they touch the floor. Then I run my hands over the couch again. . .Could it be that Seifer left this thing alone after all. . .?  
  
I seem to doubt that very much, but who knows? I can't hear, see, smell, or feel anything out of the ordinary, so maybe I really am just paranoid. I sit myself down, waiting a moment for any hidden trap to spring, and when nothing happens, I begin to lay down. Nothing happens. . .  
  
With a careful sigh, I begin thinking of things to make my weary mind ready to sleep. . .Hmm. . .Today's questions are. . .How come the SeeDs could see me the first Time around when I was still a ghost? I've got absolutely no explanation for that one. . .What was up with that dream that Isabel had? That whole line about 'if you leave, you can never return' stuff? So many questions, and no answers. .   
  
At least the question of what to do next has been answered.  
  
Tomorrow, Selphie had said, is when they are going to teach me to read. Rinny - Rinoa - offered to help, so at least it won't just be me and Selphie. . .I think I would go insane if that happened. . .Snap like a twig, I would.   
  
After that, well. . .I guess I'll try to become a SeeD. . .  
  
"And after that?"  
  
[I really don't know, Malon, I really don't know. . .]  
  
Sleep came late that night.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: AHAHAH! We are nearing the main plot of Act I !!!. . .Sorta. . .Act I is really. . .um, odd and stuff. . .Kinda weird, actually. . .Lots of good stuff though, but unfortunately a little slow. . . . Act II (if we ever get there, and I don't say that because of Time constraints, because there are none!) is a lot more. . .Interesting? Dark? Malicious? Cruel?  
  
All of the above?  
  
Maybe .  
  
Act III - You can bet your butt that this will be a sorrowful Act. . .But hey, that's in the future. . .not now. . .but soon.  
  
Sorry bout the crappiness of this chapter, but it kinda had to be done. . .  
  
Thanks ya'll, please R+R!! ~_^ 


	21. Chapter XX Faucet Fun

Act I : Trial of A Man   
  
Chapter XX - Faucet Fun   
  
~*~   
  
Maybe if I do this. . .   
  
Ah! Damnit! HOT HOT HOT!   
  
I rapidly turn it the other way.   
  
COLD COLD COLD!   
  
I jerk my hand away from the accursed faucet, holding my hand like it is injured. I eye the thing carefully, which is still running the cold water. I've been toying with it for maybe the last five to ten minutes, trying to figure out how to work it, and so far no real luck. I got the water to come out, but I've also accomplished the complete torture of my poor hand.   
  
Seifer told me to use the shower once he was finished, after a word or two on how I smelled like shit, and as soon as he was done, I was in here. I think I'm doing okay, since I don't know how to work this strange contraption, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I know what I'm doing.   
  
"Maybe if you try turning the knob so that both of the color lines overlap," Malon states, giving me somewhat of a sketchy description, but I get what she means. How could I not? I've just been fiddling with this thing for a while now.   
  
Like a frightened child (or animal) I gingerly place my hand under the flowing water. It's not hot, nor is it cold. Curious, I adjust the knob slightly, moving it more towards what I know assume to be the 'hot' side. Within seconds, the water becomes warmer, but not scalding. I adjust it until I am satisfied (Malon gives an overly dramatic sigh at that), and then I step into the tub (being careful not to slip). The water bubbles around my feet before sinking down the small hole, and I see nothing to plug it with.   
  
"Now what?" I mumble, one hand under my chin. There's silence for a moment, and then Malon floats (I hate how she does that! It's creepy) in front of me, towards the faucet.   
  
"Press that," she states, and I do so quickly. I have just pushed in a metal handle just above the faucet (near that damned temperature thingy) and it sunk in a little. At first I expect something, but nothing happens. I watch the water near my feet, but it doesn't pool. In fact, it stops coming from the faucet entirely.   
  
"What the-" what I was about to say is interrupted by the sudden oncoming of water. On my head. Malon breaks out into a fit of giggles, and all I can do is stand there, soaking wet, trying to see through my wet hair.   
  
"Not funny," I mutter, clearing away my bangs from my eyes, "Definitely not funny."   
  
"You better hurry up, Selphie's -" Goddesses, I HATE how she says that, "-gonna be coming for that lesson of yours soon."   
  
My first lesson with that overly bubbly girl is supposed to start today, in like half an hour, or something. It shouldn't take me too long, seeing as I managed to get the water started. Still, a half an hour seems like such a short Time, mainly because I do not want to go to it.   
  
I grab some kind of plastic bottle, squeezing out some of the contents into my hand.   
  
Oh well, let's hope I can do this right. . .   
  
~*~   
  
Preparing a late, makeup SeeD test is not an easy thing, especially if you are the first one ever in Garden needing to prepare one. Cid is helping, as is Squall, and it shouldn't take long but. . .No one is really sure what we should do with him. . .   
  
Squall has assured Cid and myself that Link doesn't need to be tested on everything. The Elf supposedly doesn't need testing on military strategies, nor does he need to be tested on written problems.   
  
////   
  
"He'll have no trouble," Squall stated, "I already know that his strategic mind is in working order, and his problem solving capabilities are excellent."   
  
"And your proof?" Cid had asked.   
  
"His mind is great at thinking around corners. I've seen it, myself."   
  
\\\\   
  
Cid took his word for it, and so did I.   
  
Squall also told us that Link doesn't need to be tested on his skill at working with others.   
  
////   
  
"He works best alone, and though he may seem rather. . .excitable at times, when there is battle, there is no need for concern about his level of attention to the matters at hand. When there is conflict ahead, he knows how to focus, and acts with proper professionalism."   
  
\\\\   
  
Personally, I don't think that Link has ever needed to be professional at anything. He clearly hasn't worked at something like being a merchant. I can't even imagine him in such a career. I'd imagine him as. . .   
  
As a hero. . .   
  
I shake my head briefly. There is no reason for me to think such thoughts. I do have to admit that I like him, but. . .Well, it's not proper for me to do so, and besides, is. . .Well. It's not right, with me being an instructor and him being a student.   
  
Though, he may not be a student for much longer. . .   
  
Link is currently stored in our databases as a student, he's almost ready (ready now, if Squall's correct) for his SeeD test, and I think Squall may even want to make him an instructor. Of what, I do not know.   
  
I'm really rather curious about their relationship. How does Squall know Link? I think it's rather odd that Squall knows one in almost a friendly fashion, and yet the rest of the world did not even know that they exist. . .And I am sure that there is not just one Elf left.   
  
Unless they do live forever, like the old stories tell.   
  
I look down at what I have written, frowning as though that will make it more appealing. Basically, Link is going to have long, hard sparing match with a senior SeeD, and then a fight against some large monster. We were originally planning to use a T-rexsaur, but he's already proven that he can kill one on his own, so that's out.   
  
Though Link said that he fought it with three other cadets, I did a little investigating. It turns out that he fought and killed the thing all by himself, without sustaining any injuries.   
  
Rather impressive, I must admit.   
  
Maybe Squall is right. . .Maybe he really doesn't need testing. . .but I will, anyway.   
  
~*~   
  
I watch as Selphie teaches Link how to read, my eyes narrowed in a scowl. I've never really been fond of Selphie's cheerfulness, in truth I hate it so much that it almost makes me want to vomit. Seems that it does the same to Link. He doesn't look happy (nervous, embarrassed, slightly annoyed. . .They'd all work better), as he scratches the back of his head. If this were one of those 'anime' shows that Rinoa and Zell watch, then I'm sure that there would be one of those sweatdrop symbols beside his head.   
  
Currently, she's teaching him contractions. From the way he acts, I'm quite sure that he doesn't know how to read anything. . .Not even his own language. He's learning rather speedily for someone who doesn't know how to read at all, true, but he's also an adult.   
  
His eyes suddenly flicker toward me for a brief moment, before returning to whatever it is Selphie is teaching him now.   
  
So. . .One of them finally noticed me. I've been standing here ever since they came in, and neither (I know Selphie didn't) noticed me. . .   
  
Then again. . .Maybe Link just didn't give my presence much thought.   
  
One moment, Link is in my head, annoying me to the brink of his insanity, and now here he is, a living, breathing Elf. He may have explained it all (I will never forget Kadowaki's expression, she looked like she was ready to send both of us away), but I still don't completely understand. . .I can feel something. . .Something was changed. Some cycle or something was broken, I can feel it.   
  
... . .I died. . .   
  
I was supposed to die. . .   
  
I look at Link again. He's smiling a full smile now as Selphie teaches him something completely new. They sit beside each other, and she points out everything to him like someone would a child. He doesn't seem to be getting offended, though. While earlier he seemed annoyed by her actions, he seems rather relaxed. Almost like he's enjoying her strange behaviour.   
  
Who is he?   
  
I missed what Selphie said, but whatever it was, Link seems to have found it hilarious.   
  
He broke whatever cycle was taking place. A cycle of. . .of fate? Maybe that's too strong of a word. . .Either way, he prevented my death. . .   
  
My death. . .   
  
~*~   
  
A/N: Short, yes I know. I've been fretting over it's shortness for the last while. . .But do not fear! The next chapter will probably be pretty long, and the humor (I tried here, people) will be more lacking in the near future, so I decided that a short humor chapter would be okay, until thursday comes around again. Then it's all serious, as Link goes through his SeeD test. . .I would have had this up on Monday or something, but my science teacher just had to be a real bastard, you know? . Sorry, I hate school. . . grumble grumble . . .  
  
Random Note:   
  
Later on, there are some SPOILERS to the end of Wind Waker. I assume you guys can kinda guess what happens there, but I couldn't help myself ~_^ 


	22. Chapter XXI SeeD Test Part I

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXI - SeeD Test - Part I  
  
~*~  
  
"Okay, your first task is to pick a long range weapon to use. This is for any possible missions where there may be a need for distanced attacks," Quistis states, leading me to a rack of various weapons, mostly guns, "Pick what you favor, and afterward there shall be a slight test of ability against a master of that weapon. Choose wisely."  
  
I study the rack, staring at each weapon intently. Guns, throwing knives. . .more guns. . .some weird little star objects with sharp edges. . .  
  
"Is there no bows?" I ask, turning towards Quistis, "Can I not choose a bow for my weapon?"  
  
"Well, the bow is so rarely used these days, and so terribly impractical-"   
  
"Only if you don't know how to use it," I interject.  
  
". . .There is currently only one person in the entirety of Garden using a bow, and she has our only one," a frown flits across Quistis' face, "Alicia!"  
  
A young girl of a fair height (actually, a bit taller than me) runs up to my side, standing at attention. I sneak a quick glance. She stands tall and proud, her long blond hair pulled back into an extremely tight ponytail, her blue green eyes focused straight ahead. She's wearing some kind of brown clothing, like a forest cameo. It covers almost all of her body well, tight enough not to get caught on loose objects, loose enough that it is not revealing. The only part of her not covered is her neck, head, and lower arms. She wears long dark brown gloves which seem to be for the protection of her palms, as her long dexterous fingers are not covered.  
  
"Yes, Ma'am?" She asks, her voice firm and proud. Confident.  
  
She reminds me of the Amazons and the Rouges back in Sanctuary. . .  
  
"Do you have an extra bow? Link here believes that he could use that as his long range weapon," the Instructor states, crossing her arms and shifting her weight, "It would be most appreciated if you could lend him a bow, and then you could also be the comparison fighter."  
  
Alica turns towards me, her eyes darting over me quickly. . .Studying me. . .I resist the urge to flinch, "Him? Use a bow? I doubt he has the skills to do so."  
  
My eyes move towards hers, seemingly of their own will, "And what makes you so sure of that?"  
  
"You carry no bow, therefore, you have had no real experience with one. A true archer would carry around a bow at all times."  
  
"I haven't had the Time or luck to replace mine."  
  
"Alica, please? Do you have one to lend him, or not?" Quistis' voice seems to break the tension between us, and in any other situation, I would have sighed my relief. She just wouldn't stop glaring at me.  
  
"Well. . .You're lucky, I do happen to have a second bow, but I doubt one such as you will even know how to use it," she turns towards Quistis, "If you'll excuse me for a moment." Alica walks off briskly, heading straight to the exit of the Training Center. She really does remind me of Amplisa in some ways, except less. . .innocent. Amplisa would be laughing and giggling and making silly jokes and have a permanent smile on her face. Alica seems to be. . .a lot colder, condescending.  
  
Maybe she's took some lessons from Squall. . .  
  
I face Quistis again and the Instructor sighs, "That's Alica Adlez, our one and only archer. Being from such a. . .unique area, she seems to find herself above most others. Perhaps this is a good thing, though, for if you do beat her, maybe you will be able to get her to-"   
  
"-Shut up?" Seifer says from behind us, and I turn to see him rubbing his temples as if they pain him. He's a part of the procession that has been invited to watch me, and judge my actions. We're in the first section of the Training Center, where the monsters rarely come. There's him, Selphie, Quistis, myself, Rinoa, Squall, and surprisingly enough, Isabel. The others have to be here, and I know for sure that if he didn't need to be, Seifer wouldn't be here. Onlookers are allowed, and Isabel is the only one who did come. She's got a bit of an urgent look in her eyes-  
  
[Her reddish eyes.]  
  
-and I wonder if maybe she didn't come just to watch. . .Maybe she had another dream?  
  
Red eyes. . .The symbol of someone with the Sight. The defining marker of those cursed with the ability to see the future. Some say it is a blessing, a Godsend, but I doubt that. What kind of life is it too lead where there are no (almost) surprises and you know exactly how and when you are to die? Isabel's eyes are streaked with red, only slight amount, so she is not as bad off. However, when ever I look at her, I remember the cold red eyes of the Sage of Shadow, Impa, the nursemaid of the Princess back in Hyrule.  
  
At the mere thought of her tall, imposing figure, the haunting memories of the Shadow Temple rush back to me, and I force myself not to react visibly. However, I can't help but remember the screams and the blood and the smell of death and the darkness. . .  
  
"Get a grip of yourself," Malon says from somewhere behind me, "That Alica person is coming back now."  
  
True enough, I can soon hear the soft sound of footsteps behind me, and soon Alica is right beside me, holding out her bow. I grab it, looking briefly at the other one in her hands. The one that she's using herself. It seems to be a bit better than this one, but that doesn't matter. I've had years of experience. I've lived how long, fending for myself out in the wilderness, and she's spent probably the last sixteen years of her life in this school. . .  
  
I can beat her, right?  
  
Quistis moves to the side, and I see a target behind her. It's close enough, only about fifty feet away, but it's a slight bit on the small side. Alica steps in front of me, dragging one heel through the dirt, creating a crooked line, "This," she says, pointing at the line she made, "Is the point you have to stay behind."  
  
"Your mission in this, Link, is to top Alica's every shot. One lesser maneuver, and an automatic failure is given. Shoot carefully. Alica, you go first," Quistis states, moving far off to the side.  
  
Alica smirks, pulling an arrow from the quiver at her side (I never saw it before. . .what an odd place to put one). With the look of an expert in her eyes, the string goes taught and the sound of the string snapping is heard. I watch as within a spilt second, the arrow hits the target, inside the middle circle. I feel a frown form on my face.  
  
"Beat that, Elf boy," Alica murmurs, walking confidently to the side, gesturing with one arm for me to take my spot. I do so, slightly nervously, taking an arrow from her (which takes a moment, since she seems reluctant to give one to me).  
  
I sight it, watching the target carefully. I make several small adjustments to my aim, unable to find that perfect zone. I'm not sure if it's because I am nervous or I am-  
  
"Just fire it already!" Alica (or is it Malon?) near shouts, and I release the string without fully realizing it. There's the audible twack of the arrow hitting the target (at least I hit it) and I eye it carefully. . .  
  
Both of our arrows are in the red zones. . .and I think mine might be a bit closer, of course, I could easily be wrong. Quistis has given a nod towards Rinoa and Selphie, and they both run over to measure the distance. Alica rolls her eyes and sighs, crossing her arms in almost a pout.  
  
"Okay, you can at least fire the thing, but I do have another trick up my sleeve. Though, you'll be lucky to last this round. My arrow is right in the exact middle!" That's obviously not true, I can see it from here, and we Elves have rather keen eyesight. I just ignore her, waiting for the results to come in.  
  
Eventually Rinoa and Selphie run back towards us. Rinoa is in front of Selphie (who seems to be putting on a little bit of weight, I notice absentmindedly) shouting, "Link's is closer! He wins!"  
  
"Well," Quistis nods again, "I guess that decides-"  
  
"Instructor," Alica quickly interrupts, "May I suggest something?" Quistis gestures for her to continue, "Being a SeeD requires more that just good aim. It also requires an ability to do odd and unique tasks. I was wondering, can I try one more thing? If Link can top it, then I will admit defeat."  
  
"Go ahead."  
  
Only that one shot to pass this area of the test? A bit short, I think. I thought it would have been longer, or at least more difficult. The archery courses in Hyrule used to be so much more difficult than this, and I did rather good on those. This was. . .rather easy. However, since Alica has convinced Quistis for another shot, I'm starting to worry. I don't like it when people have 'stuff up their sleeves'.  
  
Again Alica moves into the middle, and she pulls out not one arrow, but two from the quiver. I watch, rather surprised, as she puts them both to the string at the same Time, and fires them together. Now, I have not only seen this trick done, but I have also done it once myself, a long, long Time ago. The question is, can I hit the target with two arrows?  
  
Alica's shots hit true, each right side by side, and a gasp from the majority of the audience. There's a proud smile on her face, and I feel a bit of a frown on mine. As she walks by, Alica mutters a light 'Hmph' sound in a rather condescending fashion.  
  
I step up to my spot, and she hands me two arrows. Now how am I supposed to beat her move? I mean, I could possibly do it, but I haven't even tried for years, and this is definitely not the place I want to mess up on. . .  
  
Wait a minute. She fired two arrows at once, showing her abilities to perform using odd methods. What if I were to use odd methods that would work under limited circumstances, and end up with the same result?  
  
I drop one of the arrows to the ground, and I take the other one to the string. I aim, being sure not to be off even in the slightest way-  
  
"You can't beat me with one arrow," Alica taunts, "But, if it's too hard for you I understand completely."  
  
"Just watch and learn," I mutter, letting the arrow fly. I've got less than half a second to get this to work. Closing my eyes, I concentrate on that arrow flying through the air and incredible speeds. I focus so hard that I can almost see that arrow, cutting through the air like a fish through the water. I imagine it as it is, how it's flying and where it's about to hit.  
  
And then, I imagine it split in two.  
  
There's the audible sound of something cracking apart, and when I open my eyes I can clearly see what it is. Not like I don't already know, but it's still interesting to see it happening. The wood of the arrow actually splits apart, forming two separate arrows which hit into the target side by side, both within the exact center. I feel the usual drain of energy at such an effort, but the pride fills up that gap quickly.  
  
Let's see her beat that.  
  
There's a silence from the crowd, and it takes a moment for Selphie and Rinoa to run up and measure the results. When they do finish, the two of them run back, shouting out the winner.  
  
Me. I won!  
  
"Wait wait wait! Instructor, that shouldn't count!" Alica whines, crossing her arms and pouting once more, "He cheated!"  
  
"My way of doing it helps me save on arrows, thus making it more efficient, right?" I say, a smile forming on my face. I can't help but feel so great right now. Alica's giving me death glares as Quistis nods her agreement, one hand under her chin. She looks like she is contemplating something deeply, but I'm no mind reader. I'll just have to wait to see if she does say anything.  
  
"Link," Quistis turns towards me, "I am indeed impressed. The next section of the test will start in five minutes. You shall then fight in a sparring match against a SeeD. If you pass that, you will move on to the final section. You're dismissed."  
  
She walks away, dismissing everyone else with a wave as well. The SeeDs all scatter, most in a disorganized fashion. I stand still, somewhat lost within the chaos of the room. Alica gives me a glare before moving towards the door, and Seifer shakes his head at me, as if in some strange form of mockery. I'm sure he'd shout something, if it weren't for the fact that his superiors are here. I'm sure that they'd give him something to-  
  
"Hey Link!"  
  
A hand lays on my shoulder and I almost jump a foot into the air. I snap my head around to see Isabel standing right behind me, her face happy and yet. . .somewhat troubled. She's got a smile on, though, so she can't be too upset.  
  
"You could never understand women, could you?"  
  
[Shut up Malon,] I think, doing my best to keep a smile on my face as Isabel's eyes light up now that she's got my attention. She moves towards me, her smile widening.  
  
"It's good to see you doing so well. I know you'll pass this exam!"  
  
"Thanks," I mutter, diverting my vision to the ground and scratching the back of my head. I can see the hem of Malon's dress, and her old, peasant style shoes. The bottom of her dress moves as if there is truly a wind moving it, giving the whole hallucination a eerily realistic look.  
  
"I'm sure you'll do just fine. . .Hey, I like your clothes," the sudden change in the topic (not to mention her attitude since the last Time I saw her, but then again she was a little bit distraught over prophetic dreams) catches me by surprise and I look back up quickly, "They look a lot better then those bloody ones you were wearing before." I frown slightly, taking a look down at myself. Ah, yes, those clothes that Selphie wasted so much Time looking for. She seemed to like them as well. I thought them rather plain and not really worth the mention, seeing as it's just a thick white sweater with a hood on the back, and some black pants. Loose enough to be comfortable (unlike those tights I used to wear under my tunic), and yet tight enough that it won't get caught on anything. I've also got a black shirt underneath the sweater just in case I get too warm. Which will probably happen when this sparring part comes up.  
  
"Thanks," I say again. Is she trying to 'butter me up', or something? "If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here?" I ask, resisting the urge to take the defensive stance of crossing my arms.  
  
"Because I wanted to see you fight, of course," she says with a large smile practically plastered to her face.  
  
Maybe she's plastered?  
  
". . .You had another dream, didn't you?" I ask, and it takes all of a second for that smile to fade greatly. She looks away now, and I wonder if maybe that was a wise decision, after all. Maybe I should have remained silent, and kept her looking so happy.  
  
[No. . .I won't settle for lies. I want the truth.]  
  
"Yes. . .Yes I did," she looks up at me again, "You fought something large and. . .just. . .ugly, and I wanted to see you fight, now. To see if the image was true. I know, it sounds, um. . .foolish, but I'm still having trouble believing that I can see the future," the last part is said in a whisper, as if she doesn't want anyone else to hear.  
  
Understandable.  
  
"Well, I am sparring next. . .Your dream, did it look like it was here, in the Training Center, when I fought this creature?"  
  
"No. . .I think, well, whatever it was, it was large and it had an almost. . .dead look to it. It like floated on some little cloud or something, and thin spidery arms-"  
  
Mephisto.  
  
"-You were seeing my past then," she looks slightly surprised, "That happened a long Time ago."  
  
"I thought that I could only see the future?"  
  
I shake my head, "It appears that sometimes you can also view the past as well. I don't know much about the Sight."  
  
She looks down at the ground, almost a bit sorrowful, "Good to know," she mumbles in response, the vague, cold tone giving the statement a rather unimportant feeling. I look away, back to where Quistis was standing earlier. She's nearby, and now it seems that the others are regathering, signaling to me that the test is going to resume soon.  
  
"I have to go," I mumble, looking back at Isabel, "I think it's going to start back up soon." She nods, and I walk back towards Quistis, who is now visibly awaiting me, her arms crossed. She doesn't look impatient, or angry, or anything that kind of stance usually means. Instead, she looks like she is deep in thought, but as I near I see her return to the present.  
  
"Good timing," she states, "We're about to start in a minute."  
  
"Who am I sparring with?" I question, and she seems to gain a rather amused look to her eyes.  
  
"Seifer Almasy, your room mate."  
  
"What's with grouping me with him, anyway?" My eyes narrow as I ask the question, "First he's one of your 'trench coat' men, and then he's my room mate, and now he's my sparring partner! Like, can't I fight someone else? I don't care who you face me against, I'm just starting to get real sick of his-"  
  
"Hey, I better not hear anything unpleasant, Elf boy, lest I have to kick your ass ahead of time," I roll my eyes at him as he walks towards Quistis and I, and he smirks, "What a little fucktard. Worried that I'll kill you during the spar? You damn well better fucking hell believe me when I say that I will, Elf."  
  
"Watch your language, Seifer," Quistis warns, her eyes narrowing with her distaste.  
  
"Why? We're all fuc-. . .we're all adults here, what's it matter if I get a little foul in the mouth?"  
  
"Because you sound like someone fresh from puberty, Almasy," she hisses her reply, and now it's Time for Seifer to narrow his eyes, "And besides, we have to start the next portion of the test, now." Quistis quickly explains the rules to us. No death, no maiming, no magic (lucky for me), and no attacking the people on the sidelines. We both agree (not like we'd have much choice, anyway), and then we line up, facing across from each other.  
  
My hand itches for me to draw my weapon now, all those years of needing to be prepared at the first sign of danger reinforcing itself, but Quistis told us that we also could not draw our weapons until she gave the actual word to fight. Seifer also looks anxious to draw his weapon, but he disguises it well with a deadly smirk on his face, a gleam in his eyes that I do not trust.  
  
Now what could he be so happy about?  
  
"You fool, you really have to start paying more attention," Malon appears to my left and just a bit ahead of me. She isn't looking in my direction, not even facing it. She's just looking at Seifer, "Think about what Quistis said. She banned a few things, certainly, but there was one thing she overlooked: Seifer's trigger."  
  
My eyes widen at the implication, and Malon turns around in Time for her smirk to widen just as Seifer's is. It's rather eerie, how similar her smirk is to Seifer's, but I'm not really thinking about that. All I can think about is how the hell I expect to survive against Seifer, when he has his trigger at his disposal.  
  
Now, I know from all the Time I spent with Squall how dangerous a trigger can be. The trigger on a gunblade can do both immense damage, as well as extend the range of the users attack. To block a person with a gunblade can be a serious mistake, as the fire from the bullets with just continue forward.  
  
So. . .I won't be able to just block his attacks. . .  
  
"Brilliant observation, genius," Malon states, drifting away from me, fading off into the lush bush behind Seifer, "Now let's see if you can actually hold up to that. . ."  
  
I swear, she gets creepier everyday. . .  
  
[Which means my mental health isn't getting better. . .]  
  
"Begin," Quistis' voice sounds, and without any form of conscious though, I charge at Seifer just as he charges at me, that malevolent grin still on his face. The only sounds in my world now is the light landings of my feet on the ground and the heavier thuds of Seifer's. I can hear my heart racing, almost drowning out my mind's futile attempts to create a plan. . .  
  
Of course, all this is soon eclipsed by the rush that comes over me.  
  
My eyes narrow, and my heart races. The world seems to move in slow motion, revealing to me every flaw in Seifer's movements. My sword in hand (I don't remember drawing it), I run full speed at Almasy, watching with amusement as his eyes gain a tinge of wariness to them.  
  
This may not be a battle to the death, but I can still completely show up Seifer, make him think next Time before he says anything.  
  
I smirk wickedly.  
  
This is going to be fun.  
  
~*~  
  
I can only watch as Link charges at Seifer, his eyes filled with. . .with the need for battle. I was talking to him only moments ago, and he was a nice, caring guy then. . .and now he's suddenly so. . .different. I shake my head to remove the image from my mind, but as soon as I open my eyes again, it's there once more. He looks so. . .  
  
Evil. . .?  
  
No, not evil. . .something else.  
  
Hateful. Hateful describes it better.  
  
The smirk that forms on his face does nothing to reassure me.  
  
Their blades clash, the ringing of metal echoing in the air. They struggle against each other, both leaning into their attack. Seifer seems to be trying so hard, while Link seems almost humored (in some vile, twisted way) at his attempt. It isn't long before it becomes obvious that Link is easily winning, his skill outmatching Seifer's.  
  
I hope that Link wins. . .I never did care much for that bragger, Seifer, anyway, but. . .To see the Elf like this, well, it makes me rather uncomfortable, to say the least. The gleam in his eye is just frightening. . .  
  
Suddenly, Seifer starts to pull back from their little test of strength, a gleam forming in his eyes, similar (eerily) to Link's. The young Elf's eyes go wide, and with amazing speed, he somehow manages to backflip away from Seifer.  
  
Now seeing anyone backflip is rather impressive, but at the speed that he did it, and the grace, I find it absolutely unbelievable.  
  
Seifer's eyes narrow as Link begins getting away but I can't figure out why. Why would he be so mad? It's not like he can't get another chance at Link, as the Elf can't continue on until the battle is done, so he'll have many more chances to win yet.  
  
Not like I'd believe that he could defeat Link. . .  
  
A sudden flicker of movement alerts me to why he is so disappointed. As Link continues his amazing backflip, Seifer frowns, slashing at the Elf.  
  
And he's pulling the trigger. . .  
  
There's the resulting loud explosion (I kind of wish I wasn't quite so close to the battlefield, it sounded like a gunshot went off right in my ear), and the two fighters are both swallowed by a bright burst of orange light.  
  
I watch, waiting, and once the bright glare disappears, the first thing I can see is Seifer's form, looming in the reaming smoke of the explosion.  
  
What kind of bullets did he put in there?  
  
A moment later, Link walks out of the last cloud of smoke, coughing his lungs clear. He takes several steps away from Seifer, still hacking, when he finally seems to regain his voice:  
  
"What the Hell did you put in there, anyway?"  
  
Almasy just shrugs, yet another devilish smirk covering his lips. Within less then a second, the two of them are again running at each other, and soon the sound of metal against metal rings through the air. This time, it is not a show of strength. Both begin a quick series of slashes. Link seems to be the aggressor, but Seifer is countering well, matching each attack of Link's with a well aimed and strong hit. Neither actually cause any wounds, but it looks like that may not last much longer. . .  
  
Suddenly, during one of Seifer's counter attacks, Link dodges downwards, letting his opponent's blade fly right over his head. The Elf rises and attacks, his movements fluid enough to be compared to water flowing. The blade streaks through the air, and the movements are too quick, to racy for me to see what happens. . .  
  
. . .but I do notice Seifer flinching backwards. . .  
  
The fight stops suddenly, just like someone hit pause or something. I look, vaguely noticing that everyone right now is watching Seifer, who is slowly recovering. . .A large strip of his clothing has been shredded, and his coat bleeds red from midway across his chest to his shoulder. The wound, now bleeding rather quickly, doesn't look too severe, but when the Gunblader's eyes focus on Link, I can clearly see that a lot of damage has been done.  
  
Seifer's pride has been severely wounded. . .   
  
Quistis states that the battle is over, but that anger remains on Seifer's face, and I get the feeling that he isn't going to listen. . .  
  
With a speed that seems to take even Link by surprise, Seifer's attacking, his blade a blur. All I can make out is his hurried form, and Link's trying to block every attack, somehow succeeding rather well.  
  
I start feeling rather happy. Despite the slightly unnerved look on the Elf's face, it looks like he's going to survive this.  
  
That train of thought suddenly dies when Almasy stops attacking head on, and instead tries a spinning attack, his blade coming towards Link from the side.  
  
The Elf turns his head, his eyes widening as the sharp edge approaches his unprotected side,. It's obvious that he won't be able to move in time (as much as I want him too), and there's no way he could dodge something like that. . .  
  
I can see from the corner of my eyes Rinoa running forward, closely followed by Squall, his hand on his Gunblade, but they won't be able to reach Link in time. . .Everything seems to be moving so slow. . .  
  
To my amazement (and from the sounds of it, everyone else's, as well), Link again backflips. Well, 'backflip' is not quite the proper word. He's jumping up into the air, facing forwards but moving backwards, performing a somersault in the air (around eight or nine feet off the ground), his arms straight out as if to balance. Seifer's gunblade streaks by, underneath him, and he lands several feet back, breathing hard but completely uninjured.  
  
Seifer stares at him with a mixture of hate, anger, and disbelief, and he looks ready to attack again but he doesn't get the chance. Almost immediately, Rinoa and Squall are there, forcing Seifer to relax and let himself be healed by the young Sorceress' magic. After several moments of resistance, he complies, sitting down with a sigh.  
  
There's a silence following immediately, one in which I have some time to reflect on the racing beats of my aching heart, and the thoughts and worries blurring through my mind.  
  
Is Link alright? Is he okay?  
  
Without any warning, almost everyone (it takes a moment for me to join in, as I was taken by surprise) starts clapping, and a few people are cheering. Selphie is being quite vocal, as is Rinoa, and I am quite surprised to see even Squall clapping. Seifer looks absolutely furious, but telling by the glare Quistis is giving him, he's going to be in for some trouble later on.  
  
Link - now with a calm, gentle look on his face - looks absolutely embarrassed beyond all belief. He's scratching the back of his head nervously, his eyes darting about at the people clapping (and cheering for him). It takes a moment (a long moment) before the noise stops, and by then I'm seriously surprised that he hasn't gone red.  
  
Maybe he's one of those people who like, can't blush or something.  
  
I brush a strand of my black locks out of my face, watching as he timidly walks over to me as the conversations begin. I smile, waiting for him, pride filling my being.  
  
He really can fight like I saw him do in my dream. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I walk over towards Isabel, rather glad once the conversation starts up, happy that their attention is no longer so focused on me. The dark haired girl is smiling brightly, her whole face lit up. I feel myself smiling back, feeling actually sort of proud of what I have done.  
  
"Yes, a lot to be proud of," Malon states, appearing (phasing in) beside me, and I resist the urge to actually glance at her entrance, "You defeated a single person. Bravo! Such the hero. . ." The last part was dripping in sarcasm, and I can't help but glance, only to see her with one hand under her chin, acting as a support for her head. Her eyes look somewhat dulled over and glassy, as if she's terribly uninterested. I look back at Isabel.  
  
[A man who had a weapon which could basically explode,] I think, wishing that I could sigh or something, [I'm really surprised that he didn't use it more.]  
  
Malon shrugs, disappearing as I get closer to Isabel. I nod and give the young girl before me a bit of a wave, inwardly surprised that Malon left so quickly. I was expecting her to yell at me somewhat, but she seemed almost tired. . .bored.  
  
"You did great!" Isabel states, closing the last few feet, "I can't believe that you could do all that! It was amazing!" I grin uncontrollably.  
  
"Thanks. . ." I scratch the back of my head, "I really appre-"   
  
"Link," Quistis' voice shouts from behind me, starling and causing me to whip around to face her, "Five minutes till the next part of the test begins. You will be fighting a powerful monster." I nod, almost estatic to hear that I passed.  
  
Seifer's a lot harder to fight when he can use that trigger on his gunblade. . .  
  
I face Isabel again, and her smile has not decreased one bit. It's good to see someone happy like that, unlike the first time I saw her.  
  
"I guess I've got to get ready," I state, beginning to walk towards Quistis, "Just this and then I pass. . .well, I'll pass if I succeed. . ." My brow nits in worry, but soon one of Isabel's hands is one my shoulder, as if to comfort. Not that I need it, but it's nice to know that not everyone thinks of me as some stupid Elf. . .Some brainless creature. . .  
  
"Obviously not everyone thinks of you as a stupid, worthless being," Malon states, fizzing into existence behind Isabel, "Squall and Rinoa were quick to leap to your aid, remember?. . .But perhaps they should think of you badly, as it's not like you have the brains to do much."  
  
I barely prevent myself from frowning, and when I look back down at Isabel's face, I force a smile, "I've got to go, I think Quistis' is going to call me soon, anyway." I walk away from her, towards the doorway which the Instructor stands by.  
  
Quistis is standing there, leaning against the doorframe, looking almost bored. Behind her (through the doorway) I can see more green, more grass and ferns and what not. It's an extension of the Training Center, one of the areas that the monsters inhabit. The area we're in is inaccessible to monsters, as most are far too big to fit through the narrow doors.  
  
The area itself looks normal, all except for the large white object in the middle of the area. It looks almost like it is something covered with a huge sheet, stopping me from seeing what's inside. I notice the way the cage is shaking, and the thunderous footsteps. . .  
  
Whatever it is, it's big.  
  
"That," Quistis states, pointing, "Is your opponent. Come on," she leads me and (a quick glance behind me) the others towards the blanketed cage (at least, I think that's what it is). The Instructor stops about ten feet infront of the covered thing, studying it apprehensively. At her approach, the cage shakes wildly, and I can hear some deep hissing and small roars from behind the sheet.  
  
"Uncover it." She commands, and two of the people around (Squall, and the now healed Seifer) and grab the edges of the blank sheet. On the count of three, they uncover it, whipping off the sheet and instantly running away. . .Behind me. I watch as they pass, curious, and a loud explosion causes me to turn about, back to the cage.  
  
Quistis had a hand raised, and now she's running. Her spell broke the door, realizing the creature within. It leaps out, hissing deeply in it's throat.  
  
It stands on four legs, almost reminding me of a dog's stance, but this is obviously no dog. It's got a large red body, probably a good fifteen feet to it's shoulder, forty feet long, if you include the tail. It's scarlet red body glistens in the artificial light, it's ebony horns, thick things and long, gleam with an eerie glow. Wings flap once, though it doesn't try to take flight. It's more like it's stretching, after being cooped up in a cage so long.  
  
It's long snout sniffs once at me, before it's eyes lock on my form. Teeth are barred, and claws rake the ground.  
  
Of all the things that I could possibly fight, they had to choose one of the strongest. I glance over at Squall quickly, who is standing beside Seifer. He's got a smug look on my face, and I get the feeling that he's going to enjoy this.  
  
Maybe he's testing me on my skills, like my tales of Gannondorf? He's testing to see if I'm as good as I said I am. . .  
  
I face again the Ruby Dragon, wishing desperately I also had magic, not just this sword (which I draw deftly). Din's fire will be next to useless on a creature like this.  
  
The beast stares at me, a long red tongue coming out to lick it's chops, eyeing me for it's long awaited dinner. I sigh.  
  
Oh well, I might as well get this over with. . .  
  
~*~ 


	23. Chapter XXII Impatience

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXII - Impatience  
  
~*~  
  
I tap my foot impatiently on the ground, and even in my irritated state, I still manage to keep that degree of overall nonchalance that Victor defines me by. That whole thought only makes me all the more angry.  
  
[Where IS he? He's an hour late, at the least!]   
  
I let out a sigh, brushing back a stray strand of hair. Seconds later it falls back down, in front of my eyes, tickling my face. I sigh again, ignoring it. As soon as Victor gets here, I can leave and get a move on.  
  
Over the last few days, I have noticed the townsfolk giving me rather. . .displeasing looks. Soon, if I do not move, I fear those looks will simply change from displeasing to pure murderous glances.  
  
So I thought that maybe I should leave for a little while. . .maybe act as a nomad for a year or so, until everyone around here forgets my face.  
  
That's been my lifestyle for the last six years.  
  
I hear the sound of padded footsteps, and as I turn I see Victor nimbly swing over the top of the wall I stand by. One hand is his leverage, the other holds the bag of items I asked for.  
  
Finally. . .Sometimes he can be so. . .unreliable.  
  
He lands with a light thud, falling into a crouch, before quickly rising. He's breathing hard, his chest heaving with each heavy breath. He looks at me for a moment, before extending the arm with the bag. I take it readily, opening it.  
  
Good, everything I asked for is here. Some rations, my canteen, my money purse, those 'goods' I came across. . .  
  
"Excellent," I hiss, trying to keep my voice down, "You have brought me everything. . .and I am glad to see that you took nothing. . ." I look up at him just in time to see him nod fervently, a desperate, almost pleading look in his eyes, "Here is what I promised  
  
you." I reach in the bag, not taking my eyes off of him. I may be desperate to get out of here, but I'm not stupid.  
  
"Yes, yes, please. . ." he mumbles, his eyes almost glowing with some inner light. I find myself smirking as my hands grasp that which I have promised him for his service this night. I was afraid that after the venomous look the Inn Keeper gave me that I would not survive another night, had I gone back. Victor here, almost good enough of an acquaintance (more of a business partner) to be called a 'friend', was the perfect person to ask for assistance. He was the only one I could trust with such a task, but I thought it would be wisest to sweeten up the deal a little.  
  
From my bag I pull a set of gauntlets that. . .came to me several years ago. Finely crafted, imbued with some great magics, they are powerful tools. And Victor had his eye on them from the start, but he could never quite summon up the gold for such a fine product.  
  
"Today is your lucky day," I state, still keeping my voice low, "Here is my half of the deal. Keep it well."  
  
He accepts the item, as though it were some foreign object, something from the Divine Heavens of the Three Golden Goddesses. He holds it so gingerly, as if his touch were vile and the very contact between his fingers and the smooth leather and metal would shatter it.  
  
I smile, and his fingers caress it so gently. . .but I must be going, before my time is up. As amusing (and disgusting) it is to see a man get almost intimate with his newly acquired gauntlets, I don't have much time left before the guards come around.  
  
Tonvik may be a small town, lacking a large enough populous to grow, but they definitely don't lack security.  
  
"Victor," I whisper, and immediately his eyes snap up to see mine. I almost laugh at the fear and intimidation I see in his unsteady gaze, "I'm going now. Remember the last part of your share of the deal. If I find out that you've spoken about either this meeting, or my doings, I will make sure to come back for those gauntlets." He nods nervously, that fear increasing as he holds the said items closely to his body, as if to shield them from me and my threats.  
  
I nod once at him, before turning heel and sprinting off in the opposite direction, out towards the wildlands. I must move fast, as dawn is approaching and the guards must be close to this bend in their rounds. . .  
  
With almost no sound to my feet, I head through the land, towards that forest which has saved me from pursuit so many times before. It will take me a few weeks to get there, at least, but I might make a stopover at Old Haven, a small bar and gambling city, before I head to the woods.  
  
What's the matter with having a little fun, huh?  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Alright, I'm done this chapter, WHOO! I know, I know, it's short and mysterious (hopefully), but that's why it's up so quick! By the way, this is NOT Link in this chapter. It's a completely different character.  
  
Okays, I think that's it for today, sees yall later! Please R+R!!! 


	24. Chapter XXIII SeeD Test Part 2

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXIII - SeeD Test - Part 2  
  
~*~  
  
I run at the creature, musing vaguely on this common strategy of mine, to just plain out charge. I can already feel the effects of battle on my mind, logic hazing out and the need for survival drifting in. I watch as the thing walks out of it's cage, moving so smoothly thatit almost reminds me of a snake, such clean, graceful movements. The Dragon seems almost amused at my approach, at the harmful intent so clearly etched into my body. It rears it's head back, snake-like fashion, and once I'm in a five foot or so range, it lunges forward.  
  
Using one foot (my right one) as a launch, I spring to the side, narrowly missing the dangerous teeth. The head sails past me, obviously surprised by my sudden movements. I land down, turning about quickly, my sword ready for the Dragon's flesh.  
  
I can see one of it's eyes (the other being on the other side of it's head) focus on me sharply, tracking my new movements. The beast begins to move to attack me again, but I'm too close, there is no way that it can escape my next attack. Sword raised, I approach, bringing my blade down for a good strike on it's cheek. . .  
  
The blow doesn't land.  
  
There's a sharp pain, and suddenly I'm flying away from the Dragon. I spin around once in the air from the sheer momentum of the blow, seeing again the Dragon as I fall back, wispy tendrils of crimson-  
  
[Blood. . ]  
  
-extending from my form. I hit the ground hard, bouncing off of the solid surface once to land a few feet farther yet. I cough once, harshly, before sitting up rather slowly (too slowly). Across from me, there is the dragon, just standing there. Soon, as I start struggling to my feet, it begins walking over to me, slowly, as if sure that it's won.  
  
I won't let it. . .  
  
Suddenly, it's there, before me, lifting up a claw. I stare at it for one second, my eyes widening as it begins to bring said limb down on top of me. It's all I can do to roll to the left, out of the range of the claw, and jump again as the second one races towards me.I manage to land on top of the Dragon's leg, hopping off the other side just seconds before it can snap at me with that teeth lined maw. I take a quick sprint away from the creature, turning around when I think that there's enough space between us.  
  
I stand there, trying to ignore the burning pain in my back, using one hand to quickly wipe the sweat from my eyes, and the Dragon across from me, uninjured. There's a trail of blood from where the beast stands, and it lowers it's snout, sniffing at the pools of crimson.  
  
I take this chance to look about, at the area and the people on the side lines. Isabel looks absolutely horrified, as does Rinoa. I think I can see some form of fear hidden in Quistis' face, but it's being covered by all those layers of authority and duty. Squall looks completely uncaring, though I can see the interest in his eyes. Seifer's expression is almost like a mimicry of Squall's, except there is also a hint of excitement in his eyes. . .  
  
Seifer wants me to die. . .  
  
The Dragon's head snaps up, bringing my attention back to it in an instant. I smirk, taking my sword into both hands. The Dragon's serpentine neck pulls back slightly, ready for a strike, if I were to dare to get too close. . .I edge towards the creature, being careful not to come right into it's range. . .It hisses at me, the sound seeming somewhat vile and yet mystical at the same Time. . .  
  
Almost instantly, the Dragon snaps again at me, and I leap back just in Time, avoiding the razor sharp teeth by mere inches. Time slows down. . .I can see each individual scale on the end of it's crimson snout, the way the light shines off the partially closed eyes of the Dragon. . . I can feel the Time between each painful throb in my back slow down, everything is going so much slower. . .  
  
I slash with my sword, the blade cutting through the tough scales of the monster surprisingly easily. The Dragon arches it's head back away from me, with a loud hiss of pain. The end of it's serpentine nose is cut, and the blood is dripping down it, the red liquid gliding over red scales with an eerie beauty.   
  
Not enough damage to do any real harm, but. . .at least I know that I can harm it.  
  
A gray-pink tongue slips out from between the creature's teeth, catching the rivulets of blood gently, guiding them down into the Dragon's mouth. The creature almost seems to smirk at me, it's eyes glinting in the light and shining like bright embers. I feel the will to fight burning at me, almost as strongly as the three strokes of pain that run down my back and some of my right side. A scowl forms on my face, not my usual battle-loving smirk, and I briefly wonder why Malon isn't here, bothering me. . .  
  
She's been a little absent as of late. Not that I can complain.  
  
The Dragon moves forward a little bit, a step at a Time. It seems almost as wary of me as I should be of it. I walk forward as well, somewhat slower than normal, due to my pain, though I angle my direction just enough that I'm beginning to circle the creature. It falls into the same pattern, but it is soon forced to stop. There is not much room here, in this area of the Training center. Enough room for a T-rexsaur, but not for a Ruby Dragon.   
  
At least, not for one this old. . .  
  
If I am going to beat this thing, I need to find a weak point, so to speak. Squall and the others used to team up on these things, and use powerful magic on them. Here I am, alone and without any good magic. There has to be some place where it would be weaker, where it would take damage more readily. . .  
  
I can't attack it on top of the head. That would be a great place, as with a good strike I could probably pierce the brain and kill the creature in one hit. This, however, is a Dragon, and since it's so old, it has huge horns that fuse well into it's skull, taking up much of the upper skull. Telling from the size of it's mantle, this creature must be very old (and therefore, very powerful). Volvagia's horns were not nearly as large as this Dragon's, and the Sage of Fire's (why can't I remember his name?. . .Just like how I couldn't remember Navi's. . .) ancestor was the one who first defeated the creature.   
  
This one must be very, very old.   
  
If I were to attempt to attack it's skull, I would either hit the hard bones of the face, or the horns, resulting in no more than a wasted attempt. A wasted attempt which could end with me dead on the ground, a clawed limb ripping away at my face.   
  
No, there's got to be something else I can do.  
  
The claws and teeth are up front. . .and the backside of the dragon is rather. . .defenseless. . .But there's nothing really to attack back there, unless I want to kill the monster by simple blood loss. . .  
  
And a Dragon this size would take a long Time to die from that. . .  
  
I could possibly get it in the brain, providing I get the chance to stab through the eye. . .But that would be hard, due again to the teeth and claws. . .  
  
Before I can continue my train of thought, the Dragon's head raises slightly, just enough to peak my curiosity. . .I take a step back, and suddenly it leaps forward despite it's huge bulk, causing me to backflip to my right, trying to put some distance between us.  
  
It lands with a thunderous crash, quickly turning to stare at me, watching. . .  
  
And then it's head comes back down, neck extended, mouth open. . .  
  
I barely have Time to move before I feel the fire lick my limbs. . .  
  
It burns. . .It burns so badly. . .  
  
I cry out in pain.  
  
After a seemingly endless eternity of agonizing heat, licking and burning and surrounding and binding and burning, I fall backwards on to my ass, my sword landing beside me with a loud clang, the flame stopped. My back screams in pain, the wounds from earlier being jarred awake violently, and now my arms ache horribly. . .It seems that the fire only affected my arms, leaving the rest of me only singed, but my hands and wrists all the way to my elbows are burned good, leaving many little blisters that throb horrendously. The skin has actually melted in some areas, leaving molten flesh that is bubbling in a rather nauseating manner.  
  
I reach over, my eyes filled with sweat and stinging, grasping for my blade. My back aches at the movement, so do my arms once I find and lift the blade with my burnt hands, but I still struggle to my feet, biting my lip. My knees threaten to buckle, to give out beneath me and just let me fall. . .fall into some endless black where I could sleep and rest. . .  
  
I give my head one good shake, almost losing my balance in the process. I can't fail now. . .not here. . .Not after how far I've come, how much I've done, and how little I've received in return. . .  
  
My muscles are beyond strained, and it is only the adrenaline running through my veins that is keeping me on my feet even now. My eyes are half shut, ready to close, but I force them open while running one hand quickly across my eyes, trying to remove the stinging sensation. It works, somewhat, though at first it stings even worse.  
  
The Dragon just stands there, less than twenty feet from me, fangs bared but waiting. . .For what, I do not know. Maybe it is some kind of trap. . .I can't completely rule that out, for I don't think anyone has ever known the true intelligence of Dragons. . .  
  
The mere thought of that brings back a memory. . .I remember once, I asked something, and Zelda replied by shrugging and saying something. . .something about questions that could not be answered. I believe one of the questions she shot back at me was 'Can Dragons think and remember and speak the Elven tongues?' I think the whole question was so impossible to answer because of the lack of Dragons in the world. . .I don't know though.  
  
Like Malon keeps reminding me, I am definitely not the smartest Hylain around.  
  
Coming back to the battle and away from my memories, I realize that I am forced to take my sword into both hands, just to ease the strain on my arms. The Dragon stares down at me, seeming slightly amused. . .still waiting. . .And again I briefly wonder whether it can really comprehend more than any other beast can.  
  
I muster all of the strength that still resides within me, dashing at first towards the vicious creature, and then once I just make it within striking range, I dart suddenly (much to the Dragon's surprise) to the side, running along the left flank. My legs keep threatening to give beneath me, and several times I come terribly close to stumbling. I head around to the tail, my speed still good but dying on me, fast. The Dragon tries to follow my movements with his agile neck, but he himself is too slow to turn around fast enough to catchme, even in my weaker state. I allow myself a small smirk, trying not to stumble from my pains and aches. . .If I can pull this off, I might be able to win. . .  
  
This thing is hard, but Diablo and Mephisto were far harder. . .I've got to keep that in mind. I can do this. . .  
  
Near the end of my quest around the side of this huge beast, I realize suddenly that I forgot about this creature's third defense.  
  
It's tail.  
  
I am forced to leap upwards quickly to dodge the swinging limb, landing on the Dragon's back with a gasp. I fall to my knees as the pain races up me, causing my face to tighten in an effort not to cry out again.  
  
Damn tail. . .  
  
I grit my teeth, getting to my feet slowly and carefully. Luckily for me, the Dragon's tail can't reach, neither can it's neck. It's trying to just knock me off by making my ride as rough as possible, but I won't let it. I place my hands down, gripping the rigid bones of it's spine, again rising to my feet. In my hands, I take the long sword that Seifer once got for me, holding the hilt in my hands with a steady grip. I stare down, trying to determine a good target. . .  
  
As if realizing what I am about to do, the Dragon begins trashing harder, making me wobble slightly (though it could just be my dizziness. . .). I plunge the blade down, using it as somewhat of a support to hold me, while the Dragon roars in pain. It gives a final good buck, and I go flying off far into the air.  
  
Well, it could be worse. . .  
  
Through the blur of images passing in front of my eyes - the green of trees and glass, the red of the Dragon, the assorted colors of the onlookers - I catch one thing moving differently.  
  
Some kind of. . .vat of darkness. . .punctuated with small white things. . .  
  
I can feel the teeth of this monster ripping through my skin, carving into my chest. My eyes are wide in surprise, my breath ragged and short, my other pains forgotten. The Dragon is unable to gain a proper hold on me, having it's teeth tear through my skin instead. I can hear a few cries of surprise behind me, sounding so far away. . .Almost as if under the earth. . .  
  
I hit the ground hard (jarring again every wound in my body) and I've vaguely aware of a pool of blood surrounding me, spreading at an alarming rate. Instinctively, my hand skims the ground around my body, searching for my sword. It sifts through the dirt and blood that have piled and pooled around me, but I have no success.   
  
I can't find it. . .  
  
The Dragon approaches once more, so sure of his victory that he takes his time, coming ever so slowly. Each footstep is a loud noise that rumbles through the entire Training Center, shaking the very earth beneath me. Head raised, horns looking like some dark halo, the Ruby Dragon approaches me, a bringer of death. . .  
  
Or, if I'm lucky, the receiver. . .  
  
I think I can still see the crimson blood pouring down his ruby snout. . .a wonderful mix of scarlet that even if I survive, I am sure I will never see again. It's eyes focus on me. . .burning embers that seem to glow and sear into my soul. . .  
  
Gannondorf would have LOVED this creature.  
  
My hand is moving more frantically now, as I fight pain and blood loss for a chance to find my weapon in Time. I still can't feel it, so I prop myself up on the arm that had been searching, now looking and feeling with the other. My vision is suddenly going really blurry, and I can't seem to think straight. . .I might be saying something outloud, in a whisper, but I'm not sure. . .I can't hear properly, either. . .  
  
The pink-gray tongue of the beast snakes it's way out, licking up another drop of the blood that still pours from the wound, or so I think. . .It's a bit hard to make it out, I think the Dragon has a bit of a gait now, a limp caused in it's back legs by that blow I gaveit earlier. I had landed right in the middle of it's hindlegs, stabbing my sword downwards into the spine. It wouldn't surprise me if I did manage to cause some damage with that.  
  
It nears, slowing down now. . .The head is rearing back slightly. . .  
  
And I find my blade, my hand grasping the cool, hard hilt in a shaky grip.  
  
The Dragon lunges forward, and I flinch, swinging wildly forward. The blade slides into the flesh of the dragon, through the tough scales and into the thick muscle behind. The body, due to it's own weight and momentum, slides forward a little on myblade, threatening to crush me.  
  
I smirk weakly, pulling the sword from the chest of the Dragon. My blow landed right in the center, between the two shoulder blades. . .Possibly even piercing his heart. At first, it's body totters towards me, threatening to fall, but I ignore it. . .If I have to die, at least it's dead. . .  
  
Soon, before the body would crash to the ground, someone comes along (one of the Seeds? Several of them?), somehow preventing my death by making the body fall a different way. I am barely able to feel the shaking of the ground. The sword clatters from my trembling grip to the ground, falling on to it's side.  
  
I stare at it dumbly, vaguely aware that there's people rushing towards me. . .My mind is so foggy that all I can seem to do is try to fight the pain, staring hard at the blade. . .My back aches and my arms burn and my chest is beginning to go an unhealthy numb, but I can't seem to do anything about it. . .  
  
My shoulder weakens, and the last thing I'm aware of is the coldness of someone's arms catching me, holding me until I'm too far gone to know what happens next, or care.   
  
~*~ 


	25. Chapter XXIV Just Visiting

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXIV - Just Visiting  
  
~*~  
  
Dedicated to 'Bilbo'.  
  
~*~  
  
I watch him, laying there, his eyes closed and his body still. We only got him into the infirmary a few hours ago, and after a quick try at healing him (it didn't work, somehow his body refused most of the magic) we bandaged him up and began to pray for the best. His face is horribly pale from blood loss, and despite cleaning him up, his hair still has a red tinge to it's golden blonde color.  
  
He's bandaged up well, the cloth on his brunt arms is rather intact, while the cloth that wraps around his chest many times is plastered to his skin, and bloody again, already. I guess I'll have to inform Kadowaki that his bandages need changing again. . .  
  
She might need assistance. . .  
  
The very thought makes my cheeks glow.  
  
Such a contrast I must be to the pale Elf on the bed. His skin has blanched completely, due to the lack of blood. He's a deathly white, and the whole eerie appearance is not helped by the harsh lights overhead. They give his skin somewhat of a glow, but it almost makes his skin look like it is a radiating white, like he himself is something. . .Divine. . .  
  
His breath is shallow and slow, and I wonder vaguely if he's getting enough oxygen into his lungs. His chest is bare, mostly covered by his bandages and a thin but warm blanket that is pulled up just short of his collar. I reach to pull it higher, up to his neck, but I am interrupted by the sound of someone lightly clearing their throat at the entrance to this little room. I turn swiftly about, the look on my face and my position making me feel a lot like a deer caught in the headlights.  
  
There stands Squall, in all his nonchalant glory. His arms crossed infront of him, his eyes angled down at me, he looks prepared for a fight, prepared to take it and overwhelm any arguments I have with his authority, his higher rank.  
  
He won't be well enough prepared for this.  
  
"What the hell is this?" I say, pointing at Link, "You sent him up against a Ruby Dragon, by himself, with no magic?"  
  
"Do not blame me for everything," he counters, his voice missing the bitter tone mine has, "You were there too. I didn't see you trying to stop the fight."  
  
"I. . .Because it's my place to NOT interfere. You ordered me not to before the battle even begun! I should have known that there was a reason you told me that!" I place a hand on my forehead, "I should have known. . ."  
  
"I don't see why you're so upset," the 'Ice Prince' states, gesturing with his hand at the Elf laying on the bed, "He's alive. I don't see anything wrong with that. Besides, if he was smart he would have realized the usefulness of magic in that fight."  
  
". . .Squall, his body REFUSED the healing magic. I don't know why, but I think his body has. . .I don't know. . .I don't he can use magic, or be affected by it." I shake my head, staring at the floor, "I guess I'll have Kadowaki do some tests, but still. . .I think he would have used magic at some point or another, if he could have. At least to heal himself, anyway."  
  
I glance up, and I am just able to catch a bit of an uncertain, somewhat surprised look on Squall's face, but almost as soon as I see it, it's gone. I sigh inwardly, and Squall crosses his arms again. There's a bit of an awkward silence between us, until Squall finally speaks:  
  
"Instructor, I do believe you have a class to attend to, do you not?"  
  
I nod briefly, before walking out and down the hall. I force myself to maintain my cool, but I can't help feel that I'm acting in a huff, too agitated to even brush away the blonde bangs which hang in my face, annoying me. All I can do is think about how angry I am at Squall and wonder if I am being a bit childish. . .  
  
But still. . .  
  
I sigh. This is going to be a long day. . .maybe I can sneak back in to see Link again later. Kadowaki may need my help, afterall.  
  
~*~  
  
Red. . .Red eyes staring down upon me. . .Soulless. . .Empty, lacking pupils or humanity. . .Staring down. . .The form moving like water. . .fluid grace. . .I can't see. . .I can't anything but the eyes. . .  
  
The red eyes are above me, somewhere above me in the darkness. . .I don't know how that's possible, maybe it's on the ceiling above me. . .?  
  
Where am I? I can't remember. . .  
  
The eyes move (crawl, fly, whatever. I can't even see myself in this darkness, just those eyes) directly above me, studying me intensely. I watch, as they suddenly rush down towards me, instantly closing the distance between us. I lift up my arms to block the orbs (they've lost most of their eye shape), but I'm too late. My sight is blocked out by a bright red haze.  
  
Images of fire and destruction fade through into the haze, but I can't see them right. . .it's like there's a fog between them, and me. . .  
  
People dying. . .I can see guards, or people at least dressed like them, coming up behind innocent civilians, and murdering them with swords or spears. . .Axes, knives, daggers, clubs. . .  
  
There's one woman, with dark black hair, dressed in simple peasant clothes, running for her life. In her arms rests a screaming baby, wrapped in cloth. She runs, her hair and dress streaming behind her, but it's too late for her. A guard, dressed in silver armor, attacks her side, impaling her with his lance. She shrieks in agony before falling to the ground, limp and dead. The guard, cold malice in his eyes, walks over to her, rolling her over with a kick to the stomach.  
  
Her child is uncovered, alive and crying. The guard takes one look down at the bloody corpse of the woman and the now screaming figure of the child, before jabbing his spear down, completely destroying the fragile skull of the child, a deadly smirk on his face.  
  
I am horrified by the blood and gore and cruelty of what I have just seen (strange. . .It seems hazy still, as if unreal) but I can't move. I'm frozen to the spot.  
  
There's the sound of feral laughter behind me, and somehow I find the strength to turn and face the noise. There's a guard there, behind me, his silver armor glinting in the orange of the fire, creating the image of him being in flames.  
  
Maybe he is. . .  
  
He raises the sword in his hand, far above his head, preparing to bring it down. The fire that surrounds him is so bright, so terribly bright, and I can't help but stare at it and loose myself in it's flickering light. Behind the guard, far brighter than the flames, appear two red eyes, soulless, pupiless, hungry. They narrow as if in anger-  
  
No, not anger. Vengeance.  
  
-Before suddenly fizzing out existence, and reappearing, no longer behind the guard, but in his own eye sockets. The guard seems not to notice, or care. He smiles wickedly, before bringing down his blade, down on to my head like-  
  
The blow never lands, instead the weapon is thrown from the guards hands (the now surprised guard) far to my left. We both watch it land, some thirty feet away, and upon it's impact with the ground, it bursts into flames. I look back at the guard to see those red eyes still in place, slightly surprised but the look of gleeful murder is returning swiftly.  
  
However, before the guard can do anything about his weapon, of his wants, the fire around him fades into a clear, cold blue, and surprise covers his face once more, accompanied by fear. The flames are doused by this new light, and the guard shivers, glancing about as if expecting attack.  
  
No amount of preparation could have readied him for what would come.  
  
The cold blue light brightens all around him, closing in on him, almost like it wants to crush him. It then lifts him up, high into the air before tossing him aside. He flies off with a scream, landing somewhere deep in the flames, instantly consumed. I stare at where he disappeared, unsure of what's happening. Should I be afraid, or should I be glad?  
  
An icy cold hand lays itself on my shoulder, causing me to jump and whip about. My eyes widen, not in fear, but in surprise.  
  
Before me stands the beauty that is Shiva, in all her glory as the Queen of Ice.  
  
~*~  
  
I sit on the chair beside Link's bed, my elbows propping me up on my knees, one hand gingerly rubbing the scar that covers my forehead. I find myself deep in thought, as usual, questioning my own actions during this whole ordeal.  
  
Did I do the right thing. . .?  
  
I shake my head lightly. Of course I did the right thing. If he couldn't defeat that Dragon, whether it meant his own death or not, then there would have been no reason whatsoever to trust him. He would have lied to me in the beginning, and I don't trust those who try to trick me. . .  
  
But he did complete the test, which means that he wasn't lying to me. Or, he's at least strong enough to have done what he said. This whole thing about his inability to use magic has got me suspicious again. Link clearly told me that he learned magic on his quest, and for 'a simple commoner', he could use it rather well.  
  
However, if he can't use magic, then he must have lied to me. . .  
  
Right?  
  
I don't know. I never know anything when I need to. . .  
  
I sigh with frustration before getting up, and heading to the door of this little room. I glance at Link one last time, finding myself rather disturbed by the unearthly glow caused by the lights on his pale skin. It bothers me, highly, and I look away, finally heading out the door.  
  
Kadowaki's office itself is noticeably darker than the room from which I just emerged, but the Doctor is nowhere in sight. I shrug, to myself before heading back out into the halls, away from the rooms of the sick. The natural light coming through the windows in the hall give me no solace, as I worry about my decision.  
  
The hall is unusually quiet, I notice, still looking down at the floor as I walk. There's only the sound of my boots on the tiled flooring, no noise of people talking or laughing. I glance up briefly to confirm my suspicions. Just the dull sound of my boots echoing through the empty hall. . .  
  
That, however, soon changes. There's the sound of hurried rushing, and I look up to see a young cadet - Gerreck, I believe his name is - coming towards me, running. I watch with an eyebrow arched, amused at the sight. He looks like he's run the entire way from the bridge to here in only moments, making a part of me wonder vaguely at the importance of his message.  
  
That's - of course - why he's here after all. There's no other reason someone like him would look for me. He was probably sent as a messenger boy. Nothing more.  
  
"Commander Squall!" he shouts as he gets near, "Commander Squall!"  
  
"Yes, yes," I reply, unable to keep the bitter tone out of my voice, "I can hear you. What is it?"  
  
He skids to a stop in front of me. "Sir," he begins, "I was sent to tell you that there have been reports of an overly large population of Forbidden at the Centra Tower," he states, panting for breath, "Cid told me to come and tell you this, and give him your decision."  
  
"My decision on what? Whether or not to send someone in there to exterminate them, or something?" Gerreck nods, and I sigh, rolling my eyes. This is really not a good day, it's really not. I raise a hand, rubbing my scar gently, my head bowed and my eyes shut as I think, "What threat do they pose?"  
  
"Not much, to be truthful, Sir, but Cid fears for the safety of anyone living nearby, and also there's those plans of President Loire to start up a town there, sometime next year hopefully. To eliminate them beforehand would probably be to our advantage."  
  
Our Advantage? "I suppose taking them out now while they're still few in number would be rather advantageous. . ." I state, thinking deeply, ". . .I want a team sent there, to wipe them out. Or close to, anyway. I want Seifer Almasy, Irvine Kinneas, Selphie Tilmitt, and. . .Just those three, they should do well." He nods curtly before walking away, confidently, and I call out quickly to him, "Tell them not to underestimate those creatures," he gives a brief wave to show me (in his own, unique way) that he got the last bit, and will remember to tell them. I sigh.  
  
Now was THAT a good decision. . .?  
  
They could get themselves killed - rather easily - if they get all cocky about the situation, and if I know Kinneas, then he will. And sending Selphie, who I suspect by the sudden appearance of new weight on her body, that she is pregnant, could set her in danger. She's not far yet (of course, I could be wrong about her even bearing a child at this time), but still. . .  
  
A brief shake of my head temporarily relieves me of any doubts. They will be fine, they've fought a lot worse. Ultimecia, Guardian Forces, hell, almost everything we have ever come across we have beaten, and there's been things far more powerful than a few Forbiddens.  
  
Of course, it mattered just how many Forbiddens there were involved with this. . .  
  
~*~  
  
". . .Shiva?" I manage to whisper, swallowing the lump in my throat. She smiles at me, sadly, before nodding slowly.  
  
"I am she."  
  
"What are you doing here? Where am I?" I ask almost frantically, looking about me now that I seem to have regained control of my body. She just watches and waits until I've calmed a little before speaking with her clear, cold voice.  
  
"You are on the cusp of death," she gestured with a hand to everything around us, the burning destruction of this wasteland, the dead, broken bodies scattered about, "And this is what you most fear, isn't it?"  
  
I arch an eyebrow, wondering what the Hell she meant by that. What I fear, what is she-  
  
"You like Death, but only by your hand. These bodies here, does it help for you to know that they are not real? That they are but simple hallucinations of your feverish mind? Does that help, Hero?"  
  
I nod slowly, a look of slight shock on my face, "I guess so. . ."  
  
She faces me fully again, those eyes of hers freezing me in their grasp, "They are not real, and they never will be. This is a world of delusions. . ." She raises one hand to her chin, cupping it as she thinks. I watch her graceful form for a minute, before a question suddenly breaks through the haze in my mind:  
  
"Are you real? I mean, are you really here, or just another illusion?"  
  
She laughs, the sound reminding me of blizzard, for some strange reason, "I am real. I may be here, but I am real." She laughs again, briefer this Time.  
  
"Then what-"  
  
"What am I doing here? I, as all other Guardian Forces, can exist in almost all realms at once. Many higher beings can do that, just as Gods can exist in all realms simultaneously. This just happens to be one of my haunts," she states clearly, ending her words with a light giggle, as if this whole conversation amused her, nothing more.  
  
"But I thought that you, you and the other Guardian Forces were Gods," I say, giving the back of my head a brief scratch as confusion begins to wash over me.  
  
"No," Shiva states with a sigh, "The only Gods are those you know from your world. Din, Nayru, and Farore, you know, them. There are rumors of other Gods, farther off in some universal realm, but they come to us not, and none of us can seem to reach beyond the realms we know."  
  
"Wha?" I mutter, trying to shake the mist from my mind, "What are you-?"  
  
"Do not worry about it, Hero," I hate that name, "That is of no importance now. The reason I'm here is something completely unrelated. I have to thank you."  
  
"For what?" I murmur, rubbing some of the confusion out of my mind by massaging my temples.  
  
"For saving Squall. He's of great importance yet, you know," she smiles, but her eyes don't quite show it, "In response, the other Guardians and I have agreed to assist you once, if your need is dire. We would help you, in every way we can."  
  
"How would I-"  
  
"You would just try to summon us. . .You'll know how, when the Time comes," she states, that smile now reaching her eyes, and shining brightly, "I hate to have to send you back to your dreams, but I cannot hold you here forever."  
  
"What happened to me, anyway?" I ask, but it is more of a silence breaker than a curiosity quenching question. It's taking a moment (more like a century) for all of this to sink in, and I feel like I'm drowning in all this knowledge.  
  
"You will find out once you awaken, but, that may not be for some Time, or ever," she looks sad now, I notice with a tinge of sorrow to my own being, "I am no seer, but I do wish you the best of luck. Farewell."  
  
A blue light slowly eclipses her, and almost as soon as she had come, she was gone, and in her absence the raging fires again grew close.  
  
~*~  
  
"Isabel?" Kadowaki asked, surprising me, "You're here to see him as well?"  
  
I jerk around, looking at her with shock on my face. It takes me a moment to wipe the look of my face and catch my fleeting breath, but as soon as I did I looked as casual as ever, "Y-yes, yes I am."  
  
"Oh, I didn't expect to see you here, nor really anyone else, for that matter," she states, moving her neck about as if trying to remove pains there, "He wasn't very popular, at least, not until now. I guess the word about him taking out a Ruby Dragon on his own is something that the people around here respect. It must be hard to take out one of those things, especially on his own. I've seen what it did to him," she shakes her head, looking rather pale, "He's lucky that he's survived this far."  
  
"Can he make it," I worry, clasping my hands together before me, pleading. To my great relief, she nods once.  
  
"He may. I do hope he does."  
  
I sigh, blowing the breath from my mouth in one brief gust, "Can I see him?"  
  
"Of course. Right this way." Kadowaki leads me into the room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I hardly notice, however, as I stare at the pale form on the bed before me.  
  
Blood stains the tips of his blonde hair, same as the bandages on his chest. They look as though they've been changed only recently, but still the crimson has managed to soak through. His chest is bare (a fact that I find has turned my cheeks somewhat red) of clothing, but very well wrapped. His face looks sallow and pale, and I know immediately that he's lost a lot of blood.  
  
I saw him lose most of it, earlier, in the Training Center.  
  
His eyes are closed tightly, as if in peaceful sleep, but I don't know. . .The aura I feel around him makes me think otherwise.  
  
I sit beside him, on the chair next to the bed. His lack of movement disturbs me, and I worry that maybe he is dead, here and now, and that there is nothing I can do to save him.  
  
But the heartrate monitors are still going, telling me that life still floods through his veins. Well, maybe trickles. I don't know. He doesn't look the least bit healthy. . .  
  
When he first arrived he was rather skinny, looking like he was quite a few pounds underweight. That's one of the reasons that no one wanted to believe that he took down something that both SeeDs and Cadets couldn't. Alone, nonetheless. No one said anything about it to him, however, as either the people were too good to talk to him, or they just didn't want to be rude.  
  
After a while, it appears that he is gaining some of that weight back, looking somewhat more healthy. He's only been in the Garden for a few days and I hear that he only eats after twelve o'clock, after everyone else has left, but he is looking better.  
  
Then how often was he eating before he came here?  
  
Now, he looks so frail. . .So hurt. Not broken, but damaged. . .  
  
He looks like he could never be broken. Never.  
  
The light hits his skin from the window, causing his form (the light shines off his hair, his chest) to almost glow. It's rather eerie, really.  
  
Suddenly, I'm not sitting there with Link anymore.  
  
there's the sound of a metal clang, and my vision comes back into focus. I'm standing in a hall, one of an older style, built entirely from stone. A castle, almost. I can really see much, as my sight is blurry, but there is one thing I do notice.  
  
Link's body laying on the floor, pale and unmoving.  
  
The real world comes rushing back to me, causing my head to swim. Link lays on the bed beside me still, cold, pale, and unmoving. Just like in my vision, or whatever. I find myself shaking, but somewhat secure in the fact that whatever happened to me ended rather well, however, there is one question that remains strongly in my mind. . .  
  
What did I see? Was it the past or the future?  
  
~*~ 


	26. Chapter XXV The Collapsing

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXV - The Collapsing  
  
~*~  
  
I've been sitting by this bedside for the last two days, almost straight. I would be here the entire time, were it not for my classes. Link has hardly stirred since I started my vigil, only occasionally tossing or turning in his near unconscious sleep. He's as still now as he was that first day, though not nearly as pale. Kadowaki says that he'll make it, that it's almost impossible for him to die now that he has come so far. I still worry, however. How could I not? Seeing him lay here, it's hard to watch and wait like this. . .  
  
He shouldn't be laying here. . .  
  
I haven't been Link's only visitor. Quistis has made numerous trips, but she never stays long. It's almost as if she's hiding something, or trying to at least. I'd say, personally, that she's infatuated with him, but the 'Ice Queen' in love with someone?  
  
Then again, it is said that she was once in love with Squall, or still is. . .  
  
Zell and Rinoa have stopped by occasionally, as well. They acknowledged me somewhat, treating me as though I was a pleasured acquaintance. In reality, that's not true. I don't know them well enough to be an acquaintance.  
  
They almost seem to fuss over Link, or at least, Rinoa does. She tries to boss him into waking, though it never works. She then usually frets, afraid that he'll never awake. Zell usually buts in about this point, telling her that he'll be fine, and that he'll wake up once she yells at his lazy ass enough. She seems to find this remotely funny (I have to admit, it's rather hilarious, when you see them do the whole thing so dramatically), and a light smile forms on her face, every time.  
  
Amusing, but despite the number of times this has happened, Link still remains asleep.  
  
Alica came once, staring at Link before muttering something about how weak he was. I glared at her, and though she didn't seem to notice my sudden anger at her, she did leave rather abruptly.  
  
All in all, it's been rather quiet in here, especially for the last little while. The only one who has come in here over the last couple of hours (well, except me) is Kadowaki, who does a brief, routine check on the young Elf every so often. She's left every time with a somewhat dissatisfied look on her face.  
  
I heard that Link and her got along fairly well, for the fact that he's only been here a short while. Then again, it's hard not to get along with Kadowaki, seeing as how she's rather kind and all. . .  
  
I turn and look at the door. I can see the Doctor milling about as I watch, even now. It seems that she is always busy, working on something or another. I can barely see the clock through the doorway, but I make out what it says, nonetheless. Seven o'clock. Sharp. Kadowaki will be going for one of her breaks now, and will soon be back. She's got a few assistants running about, to tend for the sick while she's gone.  
  
There's about three other injured in the Infirmary today. One received a good whap to the head, which rendered him unconscious for a few hours. One moment, he's training in the Training Center, the next he's stuck in the Infirmary with a good bruise to his temple. Even though he's regained consciousness, Kadowaki wouldn't let him leave. Said that he would need as much rest as he could get, and that she wouldn't let him out until he was ready.  
  
There was, of course, assorted grumbling at that.  
  
The second one was a young girl who managed to catch a serious but somewhat rare strain of the flu. She had a fever and the shakes, but when I asked Kadowaki about it, she said that it would wear off in a few days. She also said that since they were keeping the girl in near quarantine like conditions, there was almost no chance of the flu spreading.  
  
I was glad of that. With Link's weakened condition. . .  
  
The third occupant of this somewhat large facility is a boy I know rather well. His name is Isaac, a small boy with dark black hair and ruddy brown eyes. He's usually wearing a large smile on his face, as he makes silly jokes about people's stupidity. He does, however, have the occasionally good joke.  
  
He wasn't laughing when he came in here, a large spear gash down his back. He was also injured during training, rather badly too. Not as bad as Link, but I thought that I could spare a few minutes from the Elf's bedside to go make sure that Isaac was okay. After all, that was still rather early on, and Link wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.  
  
Isaac had been a mess of blood for such a wound. It did go fairly deep, though it was not very wide. It was made when his opponent finally got ticked off at one to many bar jokes. Apparently, he fed his sparring partner somewhere along the lines of twenty five to thirty jokes, and the other guy just couldn't handle anymore.  
  
I had to yell at the boy for close to half an hour about that mistake. It seems like I'm always yelling at Isaac.  
  
I sigh, looking back to Link's prone form. He lays there still, unmoving, but. . .I move closer. Are his eyes open?  
  
He blinks once, opening his eyes a crack. His eyes seem to be entirely black, probably heavily dilated. The shadow from his eyelids isn't helping, either. I can't tell his irises from his pupils, or from the whites, for that matter. I watch, and he blinks again, weary orbs focusing on me. Or, trying to.  
  
"Link?" I ask gently, my voice almost a whisper. At the sound, he moves his head a little in my direction, but he can't seem to pin point my exact location. I'm more than willing to guess that his sight is blurry.  
  
"Is-Isabel?" He asks, his voice rasping heavily. Almost instinctively, I reach for the glass of water sitting on a table near the bed. I've been waiting for this moment for a while now, preparing for it well. Kadowaki told me to be prepared for when he woke, that he'd probably be hungry and thirsty.  
  
That he might even be delirious.  
  
I shake the thought from my head, grasping the glass and turning back towards Link. He's facing me, his right cheek resting against both his shoulder and the pillow as he watches me, or tries to. I place one hand at the back of his neck, slowly pouring the contents into his mouth. Despite my caution, some of the liquid escapes and trickles out of the corner of his mouth in thin rivulets. Not that it matters, neither of us care. He's too out of it to probably even notice, and I'm too focused on making sure that he's well hydrated.  
  
Once he has drunk his fill, I lay his head back down gently, letting the back of my palm rest on his forehead for one brief moment. He is warm, though not burning with fever. I remove my hand and stare into his eyes. Dark as they are, I can see the delirium that Kadowaki warned me about there, yet, he is not taken in by it. Every few seconds, his eyes do glaze over, but he quickly comes back to himself, as if fighting it.  
  
I smile. He must be trying so hard, in his condition. . .  
  
"What. . .What happened?" He voices weakly, his voice no longer quite as raspy, but still strained.  
  
"You won the fight with the Ruby Dragon," I say lightly, "You're a SeeD now, Link. You're a SeeD. . ." I move a hand through his now clean bangs, watching as the hair falls back down to rest off of his face. He blinks again, slowly, as if trying hard to concentrate. I see the edges of delirium pull again at his consciousness, but again he resists.  
  
My smile widens slightly.  
  
"I. . .I did?" his brow furrows slightly, "I d. . .on't. . .don't remember. . ."  
  
"You won. . .You kicked it's butt into the ground," I state, my smile now a grin. His forehead straightens again, and he attempts at a smile.  
  
"Did I?" I nod, "Good. . ." he clears his throat, with a harsh sounding noise, "good. . .What about-" I start slightly as those normally brilliant blue orbs begin to roll back into his head, leaving his cracked open eyes nearly white for a moment, but he recovers, his eyelids quivering, "-what about. . .others?"  
  
I don't know where he got the idea that someone is injured, at least not out of Squall's group, but I answer anyway, keeping my tone sweet and gentle, "Everyone is fine. Don't worry about it. . .Try to get some sleep. . ."  
  
He tries to fight his oncoming (and much needed) sleep, but it's of no use. He succumbs within moments, his breathing slower and far more lethargic than moments earlier. I watch his form, glad that he woke, and happy that he's resting. As much as I wanted him to wake, it was just a bit of an awkward moment when he finally did.  
  
Now that he is resting. . .Maybe now that I am sure that he'll be alright (seeing him awake made me believe that) I can go back to my dorm, and get some rest. I am sure that he'll be alright. . .but maybe I should wait for Kadowaki to return?  
  
I glance again at the clock. It's almost seven thirty. She should be back soon.  
  
I look at Link, taking in the way his eyes move under their lids. He's dreaming, probably about something unpleasant, by the looks of it. His appearance is tired and strained, his body taxed. He needs this rest. Not that I would deny it to him. . .I wouldn't do something like that to anyone, especially not to Link. . .  
  
I'll stay here, until the Doctor comes. I don't want to chance anything happening to him now. . .  
  
~*~  
  
The edge of my blade hits into the Forbidden, cutting into the chest and all the way through to the spine, the only real weak point on these things. It buckles, falling to the ground, and is immediately replaced by another.  
  
And another.  
  
And another.  
  
Zell and Selphie seem exhausted, and I don't think I look much better. I can't, not after three straight hours of fighting like this. It's beyond a joke, or even being slightly funny now. They just keep coming. There's been no sign of a break since all this began, and I hate to say it, but I'm now beginning to believe that there will be no end to this. . .  
  
At least, no end that I'll live to see. . .  
  
I fall, dodging the attack of a Forbidden, spinning as I go do. I use the momentum to swing and cleave into the monster's spine, aiming my attack right between it's pelvis and it's ribs. The thing falls with a sickening crack, and soon I am again on my feet, dodging and blocking once more.  
  
Can't keep this up much longer. . .  
  
I'm forced to ignore the sweat that forms on my brow, dripping down into my eyes. I can't deal with that right now, there's more important things, though the stinging is hurting my vision. . .Oh well, better blind then dead. . .  
  
There's got to be something else we can do. . .This isn't working. It's not going to work, at all. There's not enough space to summon, and magic seems to be doing little. Selphie heals, me and Zell attacks. That's been the pattern of things, and though anywhere else I'd say that we'd be kicking ass, here it's just a suicide attempt. Useless. Completely futile.  
  
Maybe Squall knew that before he sent us here?  
  
I block an oncoming attack-  
  
No, he wouldn't waste lives like this. . .  
  
-and I counter wildly, knocking the thing's head off-  
  
. . .However, I will not be beaten by some lowly skeletons. . .  
  
-which goes flying into a pile of other Forbiddens, all of which long since dead. Or redead. Whatever.  
  
"Hey, Messenger Girl!" I shout, hoping that she can hear me over the clash of weapons and the explosions from my gunblade.  
  
"Yeah!?"  
  
"Any bright ideas? I could sure use a lifesaver right about now!" I reply, pushing another defeated Forbidden away from me, making sure to check all my blind areas. . .I will not die here. . .  
  
"Uh. . .Not that I can think of. . .Give me some time!"  
  
I nod slowly. . .Time is the one thing we don't have. . .There's got to be something. . .  
  
"Hey guys?!" Zell suddenly shouts, "I think I have an idea!"  
  
"Well, if wonders never cease," I mumble, and telling by the gruff noise that comes from the Martial Artist's direction, so did Zell, "Pray tell, what is your idea, Chicken Wuss?"  
  
"Well. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
A sunrise greets me, brighter than anything I have ever seen before, and one of the most beauteous sights I have ever lain eyes on. . .The grass is thick with dew, cold, wet, and yet somehow refreshing in it's gentle touch. I run through it, through the grass and wildflowers and over hills and through Time itself. . .Running ever forward. . .  
  
I can't quite remember what I'm running from, but I seem to be in no panic, so it worries me not. Maybe I'm running for the simple act of running. Maybe. . .  
  
"Hey, wait up!" a voice shouts through the crisp, morning air in a tone so clean and clear that it sounds almost like it could be singing, "Wait for me!"  
  
I don't even have the Time (or the piece of mind) to turn around before something hits into me, surprising me. I fall to the ground, face first, and a fit of giggles begins above me. I struggle to roll over, and see my attacker (though, for some reason I'm not angry, or wary), but it's a bit hard with the weight on me.  
  
A girl with flowing red hair and sapphire blue eyes sits on my stomach, one hand raised to her mouth as if to stifle her giggles.  
  
I hope it doesn't work.  
  
Malon looks down at me, smiling brightly, "Caught you."  
  
"No, really?" I say, a bit surprised at the slightly caustic tone in my voice. Malon doesn't seem to notice or care.  
  
"Yep! Hehehe, you know what, Fairy Boy?"  
  
I wince slightly. Fairy Boy? No one's called me Fairy Boy. . .Not in a long Time, but. . .why? Why can't I remember?  
  
"No, what?" I answer mindlessly, trying to remember.  
  
"Today's a good day. I finally found you."  
  
That catches my attention. I look up, "What?"  
  
"I finally found you. . .It's been a long Time, hasn't it?" The voice has changed, it is no longer Malon's. Heck, the farm girl isn't even in my sight anymore. . .On the horizon is a dark cloud and a seeping black mist, crawling ever closer to me. . .  
  
My eyes widen, "Who are you?"  
  
"Your every fear. . .Every desire. . .Every unspoken wish. . .They all reside here, Link. . .They are all here. . .All alone, with no where to turn. . ."  
  
I frown. . .The voice is familiar, but from where? It's not Malon's, yet it is female. . .Far more sinister than her voice could ever be. . .  
  
"Where will you go now, Hero? East? West? North, south? Back, forth? It's all up to you. . .Time runs short, Hero. . .Make up your mind now. . ."  
  
My frown darkens. The voice is so familiar, but. . .yet. . .  
  
"Time runs short. . .You afraid yet?"  
  
The voice has suddenly taken on a much more masculine tone. . .  
  
"Danger runs rampant everywhere," I'll never forget that voice. . .Gannondorf, "And here, you cower, afraid, distanced from your home. . .Coward. Your bravado cannot save you. . .not now, not ever. . .Without your all-mighty Triforce to protect you. . .What will you do?"  
  
"I-"  
  
"There is nothing you can do, fool. There's nothing you can do now, just as there was nothing you can do then. Coward. Leaving your homeland to die. . .Pathetic. . ."  
  
The form that steps out of the mist (which has gotten decidedly closer, I realize) is not Gannondorf, or any of his minions. It is only a figure, in a dark robe, its sickeningly orangish hands drooped down by it's side. Its head is bowed, preventing me from seeing who it is. . .But, I have the strangest feeling that I already know. . .If only I could remember. . .  
  
"You have always feared the things you could not prevent, the things that you could not see. . ." The figure takes another step towards me, and the long grass and wildflowers beneath his feet bend and wilt, dying instantly, ". . .There is no hope for you, boy. No hope at all. Those you love will be destroyed while you watch from afar. . . There is nothing you can do. . ."  
  
Another step. . .  
  
"Of course, if you'd rather turn the tables. . ."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Change your place in things. . .Then you wouldn't have to cower in fear, clutching your sword as if it was the only thing between you and death. . ."  
  
Another step. More wilting.  
  
". . .You'd be Death. . .And none could oppose you. . ."  
  
Another step. . .  
  
". . .Change the tide, and never feel loss again. . .It is all within reach. . ."  
  
I shake my head. This isn't right. . .Yet, some part of me wishes so bad that I would reach for that hand offered to me, that scaled hand that looks almost like it has been cooked in chicken fat, telling from the color and shine. . .  
  
"No. . .It's not supposed to-"   
  
"It is, but if you are going to be so stubborn. . .Then DIE!" The hand that was offered to me is suddenly raised, and I find myself scrambling to my feet, running from the bright blue waves that hit the ground where I lay moments before. . .  
  
More wilting. More dying.  
  
And despite the horror of it all, some part of me is actually enjoying all this carnage. . .  
  
~*~  
  
"Okay, we have got to do this just right. . .Zell, Seifer, I'm going to really need your help to pull this off. . ."  
  
I scoff, "Just do your part, and we'll do ours." She nods, and starts summoning. Seconds later, Zell follows. I act as a guard for them, while they pull off the first part of the plan. Selphie is going to really need help to do this, and I am supposed to be the back up. If she fails, then I am supposed to continue.  
  
This had better work. . .  
  
A loud crack of thunder signals Quezacotl's oncoming, same with the loud roar of Ifrit. There's Forbiddens coming from both the upper layers and the lower ones, trying to swarm us. We've got our back to that strange statue (which looks surprisingly like an Elf, but not Link. . .No, this one is way different then Link. . .Maybe I should ask him about it later?), and I fight off the desperate monsters, who seem to know that their doom is at hand.  
  
Ifrit's flaming ball of fire wipes out the stairway to the upper levels, killing off numerous Forbidden while also blocking off their access. Quezacotl takes care of the lower stairway, but unlike Ifrit, it does not disappear instantly. . .  
  
"Come on, move!" I shout, leading the Messenger Girl (who is still concentrating on bringing Quezacotl into our world, and keeping her here) and Zell. The Martial Artist looks somewhat exhausted, but not nearly as bad as Selphie. . .I drag the two of them to the waiting form of Quezatcotl, the thunder bird.  
  
I cast a quick, awe-filled glance upon its form, gazing at its beauty. . .While its head seems to have no beak or eyes or any real features, that only seems to enhance its mystery. It's body is a mix of yellow with green streaks, and some blue. . .It shines in the moonlight, waiting for us quietly. . .small sparks of lightning leap off its back to crackle in the air, but none harm us. Despite it's impatience, it seems Quezacotl has no intention to harm us.  
  
We all quickly hop on to it's back, and on the contact I could swear that I can feel it's disdain, it's anger at being kept on this realm for longer than usual, but it tolerates us with no more than a wince at our touch. As soon as we're all on, the bird flaps its ethereal wings, lifting us off into the night. . .Leaving behind the swarms of Forbidden that infest that tower.  
  
However, just because we're leaving doesn't mean we're done. . .  
  
I glance over at Selphie. . .She's deep in concentration, and looking as if she's about to faint very soon. . .  
  
Maybe, if she can just hold on a little longer. . .  
  
Now, I begin to concentrate, calling upon the strongest power I have ever known. . .While she doesn't respond to me, once Zell's mind comes along and strengthens my plea, then she turns her mind in our direction. The very feeling of her gaze upon us is near maddening, and I wonder how Squall can even manage with her presence in his head. At all, never mind almost constantly. . .  
  
|What dost thou wish of me?| She sighs in our minds, the very force of that one action alone causing me to shake. . .She is powerful, indeed. I would never have believed Squall's descriptions, were I not experiencing it now. . .This being is insanity itself, backed by legions of raw power and might. . .  
  
"We need your help," both Zell's and my voices ring out, together, mentally. I can feel the vague amusement rolling off the powerful Eden in waves. . .All encompassing. . .Controlling. . .She seems to find some form of entertainment in us mortals coming to her for help, though I cannot begin to understand why. . .  
  
|Very well. What dost thou wish for me to descimate?|  
  
"The main support tower. Destroy as much of the tower as possible."  
  
|Fine then. A great destruction it shall be indeed.| Suddenly, her presence is gone from our minds, and I open my eyes to see a sight that I have never even dreamed before.  
  
I'm glad Squall never summoned Eden on me. I would never have been able to survive such an attack. . .Just her apppearence, fading into existence like something that has always been there, but hidden to our eyes, is somewhat frightening. She hovers there, and I take it upon myself to chance gazing at the mighty Eden.  
  
A large white figure appears, floating above the ground, on even level with us now. The form is triangular in shape, and at the front looks like what might be a woman. . .attached to the white behind. . .Almost like some unfinished sculpture. . .The woman is frozen there, her two arms angled as if in offering, her head held high, free of any real details. . .  
  
Then all reality is warped. . .Destruction rains like some apocalypse out of the Tales of Hyne, bright blue fires engulfing the tower and everything around it. . .Meteors fall, the sky darkens. . .Destruction and insanity in it's purest form. . .   
  
And when the air is once again clear of the dust, the tower has fallen. . .  
  
Debris now marks where that great structure once stood, now nothing more than a broken, flaming wreck. There is no way anything could have survived that, and no way anything there would have been able to escape. . .They're all dead now. . .  
  
Eden is gone, and I take a quick glance at Selphie. . .She looks as if she is about to drop dead soon. Maybe, it would be best if we were to land, before our ride were to suddenly give out beneath us. . .  
  
I'll have plenty of time to think on what I just saw. . .But for now, I should probably help out Selphie. . .She looks as if she is about to faint.  
  
And I'm in no mood to drop several hundred feet to my death. . .  
  
~*~  
  
AN : I hope this chapter is at least satisfactory. . .And uh, sorry if I got Eden wrong. . .What she looks like is just a foggy image in my head, and her move is all messed up in my brain, so I decided I might as well make it a bit different. . .Sorry if it's like horrible or something. . . 


	27. Chapter XXVI A Simple Song

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXVI - A Simple Song  
  
~*~  
  
Footsteps, coming towards the door. I smile. They're right on Time.  
  
In steps Squall and Rinoa, closely followed by Doctor Kadowaki. There's a moment of hesitation, but suddenly everyone's eyes widen and their jaws drop. Well, everyone except for Squall. He's got his usual stony face on, except I could have sworn that I saw some form of surprise pass in front of his eyes. . .  
  
"Link? You're awake?"  
  
Now it's Isabel's turn to be surprised. She was looking out the window, but now she's spun around to stare (no, not stare, glare) at me. She's got her hands on her hips, her body angled so that she's looking down on me, "Link?! YOU WERE AWAKE?! Why didn't you tell me! I thought you were asleep!" She gives me a light smack on the head, which does nothing for the migraine that has been pounding away in my head for the last half hour, since I woke up first, "Idiot!"  
  
"Isabel, I think that's enough," Kadowaki mutters, shooing off the young girl. Isabel looks at me once more, quickly, before getting up and leaving in a huff. I watch her go, rolling my eyes slightly as she disappeared around the door frame. I would have thought more on how maybe I should apologize, but the sound of Squall clearing his throat brings my mind back to the present.  
  
"You were pretending to be asleep? Why?" he asks, his voice stony and cold. I do my best to shrug in my current position, without causing myself any pain, but I only manage to properly move one shoulder.  
  
"Well. . .If I had told her that I was up, she would have called in Kadowaki, and I would not have had a chance to speak to you until the Doctor was done. . ." I watch as Kadowaki moves around to the side of my bed, "See?"  
  
Squall nods, agreeing with me. Rinoa, however, just cradles her forehead in her hand and shakes her head, as if in dismay.  
  
I smile.  
  
What opposites.  
  
"So, what do you want to speak about?" Squall asks, on hand on his hip while the other rests on the butt of his gunblade. I don't think it's supposed to be a threatening manner, and so I don't take it that way. It is, however, a good indicator on the way he was raised, and I keep that information, and store it away in my mind. Far far away, in some corner where I won't lose it.  
  
"Same thing you came here for. Same reason," I state, trying to move my arms so that they rest above the blankets. I manage, however, not without a little pain touched sigh.  
  
It appears I banged myself up pretty bad. . .  
  
I stare at my bandaged hands as Squall seems to be thinking up a response. I'll give him as much Time as he wants. I gingerly move my hands, looking at the small amounts of damage that I can see. In a few areas around the edges of the bandages I can see that the skin is a bright, raw pink and somewhat 'crisp' still from the initial wounding. It's healing fast, but still. . .  
  
Apparently, Dragon fire is actually rather dangerous. . .  
  
"Well, if you two aren't going to talk-" Rinoa begins, interrupting our silence. I flinch, knowing what to expect next, "-then I have a few words for you, Squall. For starters, it was pretty damn stupid of you to do this."  
  
"Do what?" Squall asks almost absentmindedly, as if he is thinking about other things. I know better. He's thinking instead about how much trouble he's going to be in. Rinoa has to be very mad to swear. . .  
  
"All of it! For Hyne's sake Squall, he defeated that monster during the SeeD test. That was the requirements of the SeeD test, and he killed that monster all by himself. Anyone else would have made him a SeeD for that, but no. No, not you. Instead, you pit him against a Ruby Dragon. A-L-O-N-E. And still-"  
  
"Actually," I interrupt, forcing myself not to flinch at her when she turns my way. Though she doesn't use heavy words when she's mad, Rinoa instead has this mask of anger and a tone of disapproval that makes you feel like some little kid being reprimanded, "what Squall did was rather smart, really."  
  
"No it wasn't, it was stupid," she turns back towards Squall, "Stupid, stupid stupid-!"  
  
"Rinoa, just listen to me for a minute," I say, wishing that I had enough mobility in my arms to rub my temples, "You see, Squall was just, uh, testing my story. . .I told him a while back all about myself, and this whole experience with the Ruby Dragon was just to test me, right?" I look at Squall, and he nods, "Squall couldn't know about my failing magic, and I bet that's one of the reasons he came here, right Squall?"  
  
He nods again, "Yes, I was wondering about that."  
  
"What? About what?" Rinoa asks again, and I find myself somewhat amused with her antics. It's actually rather funny how lost she is in all of this, "What are you wondering about?"  
  
"Well, I don't know why, but my magical abilities have been suffering as of late," I mumble, wishing that I could do my usual nervous antic of scratching the back of my head, but it's too awkward of an angle. It hurts if I try.  
  
Damn bandages.  
  
"Example?" Squall asks, crossing his arms in front of him.  
  
I sigh. Here we go. . .  
  
With a nod, I raise the one hand I was able to get above the blankets, palm up. Focusing all my will into an exact, pinpointed location directly above my hand, I concentrate. Closing my eyes, I think about the spell, how it is performed, when I got it. . .All these things. After a moment's Time, I feel the sudden outrush of a minute magical explosion, and I open my eyes.  
  
There, above my hand is a fist-sized, translucent ball of fire, ever twisting in its fiery tendrils. . .  
  
I frown slightly, trying to ignore the sweat that drips down my face. It's a bit smaller than usual. . .Maybe that's because I'm so exhausted. . .?  
  
Squall's eyes widen slightly at the sight, while Rinoa's jaw again drops. She moves closer to me, and I watch her, trying not to get distracted by Kadowaki dabbing my forehead free of sweat. The young Sorceress stares at the orb with awe, looking at it from several different angles, before trying to put her hand through it. I worry for one brief second, before she pulls her hand back out, unharmed. I let the thing dissipate with a bit of a gasp, my arm dropping back down to the bed beneath it.  
  
"A bit, um, useless, dontcha think?" she states, pulling back and away from me, over to Squall, "It wasn't even warm. . ."  
  
"I'm too weak now to make it any stronger, but it used to be a lot bigger. In my youth-" it feels so odd to say that, "-it was a large ball of flame that formed around me, almost as a shield, which I would then use my mind to spread. It would cover a large area in a huge dome of flame. Now, however-"  
  
"Wait wait wait. You said, 'In my youth'. . .Link, how old are you?" Rinoa interrupts, asking me the question I have dreaded for a long Time. I sigh.  
  
"Um, well. . .you see. . .Damn, this is hard," I mutter, again wishing to scratch the back of my head. It's surprising how you long to complete your nervous habits when you can't, "Uh, well. . .Normally, people of my race live to. . .well, two hundred, last I heard."  
  
"Two hundred? Like years?" she asked, a note of surprise in her voice.  
  
"No, two hundred days. . .Of course years." I didn't mean to say that really, but occasionally, my sarcasm shines through, "Sorry. Well, two hundred if they're lucky. I was not all that old when I was, how could you say, uh. . ."  
  
"Caught up?" Squall suggests.  
  
"Yeah, caught up in something that well, I don't think I should have been involved with in the first place. I was. . .sealed. . .for somewhere around five hundred to six hundred years. . ."  
  
"So. . .you're. . .You're a half millenium old?" Rinoa asks, looking slightly faint. I nod.   
  
There's an uncomfortable silence in which no one can seem to say anything, and Kadowaki seems to hold herself apart from our conversation, dabbing at the sweat on my forehead, still there from my pathetic attempt at magic. I don't know why she didn't reprimand me on doing that in here, maybe she doesn't care. . .  
  
Or, maybe she's saving her lecture for later. . .  
  
That thought makes me worried. Severely worried.  
  
"Link," Squall begins, and my attention immediately snaps to him, "How old were you before you got sealed?"  
  
"Twenty," I frown, "I think. Can't be sure. It's been a long Time. Either way, I was fairly young. Don't know why I haven't died yet. I mean, like, I guess I can understand not dying while I was sealed, but after? I don't know. Doesn't make much sense. . ."  
  
"You may not have died yet," Kadowaki gruffs suddenly, sounding strangely nonchalant, and for no real reason I feel my blood run chill, "But you keep this up and you will."  
  
"Yes Ma'am!" I say, my attention snapping to her now. She gives a brief nod, before straightening out my blanket (I messed up the corners a little from my attempt at pulling out my arms) and walking out calmly, collected, her hands in her pockets. Once she was out of the room, I could hear a quiet tune being whistled from her. After another moment of silence, turn back towards the others.  
  
"Well, you heard the orders. I guess I'm supposed to get some rest now, or something," I smile, "I think she'll let you back in after a while. You should probably save anymore questions till then." Squall nods, before moving towards the door, and Rinoa bows slightly, looking down at me with a smile before giving me a cheery wave.  
  
Even when they leave, I still have a smile on my face. . .  
  
Kadowaki strolls in, a few minutes after the others have left, just when my head is back down on my pillow, my eyes fogging up with sleep. They widen slightly at the sight of her return, but again narrow into slits once I see that she looks rather relaxed, not in any mood for a lecture. I sigh contentedly. . .  
  
To think, it wasn't all that long ago where I couldn't feel anything, couldn't see the colors. . .Couldn't smell, couldn't taste. . .Couldn't do anything mortal. . .I was a ghost. . .  
  
"Link," the Doctor says lightly, quietly, almost as if afraid for anyone to hear, yet there is a calm, peaceful tone in her voice, "I have one question of my own actually. . ."  
  
"Yea. . .?" I ask, surprised at how deep into sleep I had actually fallen. . .How deep I am still falling. . .  
  
"You said that 'last you heard' your race was living to be two hundred years old. What did you mean by that?"  
  
". . .Hmm? Oh, well. . ." I sigh again and stretch, very comfortable and suddenly really lazy, "Elves in my Time lived to be about two hundred, at the oldest. Most died around a hundred and fifty, or so. . .But I was once told by someone I know. . .That we used to-" I can't help but yawn again, "-live for much longer. Apparently, we used to be immortal in life span, but somehow, over the years, our life spans were depleting. . .No one knew why."  
  
"Oh. . .Thank you Link. I was just kind of curious. I was actually rather surprised when Squall and Rinoa didn't ask that, themselves." I nod lightly, my eyes closing with the gnawing need for sleep.  
  
"I'll just let you rest then, call if you need anything. . ."  
  
I don't get the chance to reply, sleep is already upon me with awaiting arms, and I welcome it with waiting arms, letting it's gentle, warm waves wash over me, and take me into peaceful slumber. . .  
  
~*~  
  
After my glorious return from the battle at Odin's Tower, I was immediately surrounded by my posse. Fujin and Rajin wouldn't leave me alone for two moments, babbling on and on about how happy they were to see me. Well, so Fujin wasn't actually 'babbling', seeing as how she barely speaks to begin with, still, they wouldn't let me out of their sights.  
  
I was finally able to ditch them about an hour ago, asking them to go run and do some. . .'favors'. . .for me. Well, maybe not favors. More like. . .pranks. Still, it will be amusing, if it all turns out. . .  
  
Anyway, if I am to get this all to work, I better get moving. . .Don't have much time left. . .  
  
"Seifer!"  
  
I cringe instantly at the sound of the voice coming from behind me. If someone wants to talk to me, I can't really refuse, seeing my delicate position in the Garden.  
  
"Yes?" I ask somewhat quietly without turning around, and slowly, around my sides come both the Sorceress and Leonheart. I sigh. These two won't let me go anytime soon, so I might as well talk to them and get it over with. Screw the prank. I probably would have gotten in a lot shit for it, anyway.  
  
I always do.  
  
"Hi Seifer," Rinoa says, giving me a bright smile and a wave, while Squall barely acknowledges me with a nod, "We've been looking for you, for a while now."  
  
"Now why is that?" I partly muse to myself. I have an idea of what they want, but it's always best to hear it and be sure. Plus, I have to admit, I am slightly curious. . .  
  
"You do have a report to make," Squall states quietly, crossing his arms in front of him, "I would be most interested to hear what went on there. I've heard that the tower has collapsed."  
  
"Well. . .There were too many and we had to, uh, use the GFs to escape. But I wasn't about to let them live, no. Me and Zell summoned Eden, and it blew up the tower itself and. . .Hey, how did you know about the tower falling? Zell and Selphie said they were leaving it up to me, and I haven't said anything yet."  
  
"A couple of days back, Link woke up in a delirium, mumbling something about the tower collapsing. He went back to sleep before saying anything else, but then later that day, we had some SeeDs who were out on other jobs pass the place by. By request, they checked out the place. Afterwards, they reported here. You returned later that night."  
  
"So. . .The Elf's awake?" I ask, and Squall nods.  
  
"He was, but then Kadowaki told us to get out and for Link to get some sleep. That was only about two hours ago."  
  
"Hmm. . ." I mumble, my chin resting in the palm of my hand, "Two hours. . .I think I should go and see him. I have a question that I think that only he can answer. . ."  
  
"I'd watch it," Rinoa suddenly butts in, "Kadowaki might get mad if you start pestering him, especially if you wake him up."  
  
"Well," I pull my arms back down, looking at the young Sorceress in blue, a smirk on my face, "She can't get mad at me if he's already awake."  
  
Rinoa instantly takes a hasty step towards me, her hands on her hips, the upper portion of her body somewhat bowed, yet her head angled up at me, "You better not do anything stupid, Seifer! Kadowaki will have you-"  
  
"My ass on a silver platter, I know. But who doesn't want that?" I say the last bit in a seductive tone, winking at Rinoa. She sighs and shakes her head, returning to her former position, and Squall behind her just rolls his eyes.  
  
"I'm sure she'd love that," he says sarcastically, and I laugh, "but I'd watch were I step, if I were you." With that said, the two of them turn away from me, and head down farther, to the cafeteria. I watch them briefly before turning around and heading back to the circular hall. I take the turn that will lead me to the infirmary.  
  
While I walk, I try to remember that statue I saw at the tower. It will help if I can call it up if Link asks for details, as I'm sure he will. . .  
  
I frown. Speaking of the Elf and his knowledge, just how did he know of the tower's collapse? That's one hell of a coincidence if he did just suddenly guess it right. . .But how could he have known? He's been sick and half dead for some time now, and he was delirious at the time. . .  
  
My frown deepens. . .Maybe I should ask that dark haired girl I've seen him with, the one with the freaky eyes. She might know. It always seems like they're whispering secretly to themselves, maybe they were talking about this once. . .  
  
The Infirmary door opens and shuts with a loud click, causing me to wince. I'd prefer to get out of here without a run in with Kadowaki. The last time we talked. . .  
  
"Seifer?!"  
  
And for the second time today, I cringe.  
  
"What are you doing here?" a voice hisses from behind me, and I turn to see Kadowaki standing by the door, her arms crossed, her brow bent in a frown. . .  
  
"I. . .uh-"  
  
"Quiet!" again she hisses, "There ARE people sleeping in here, you realize."  
  
"Would Elf boy be one of those people?" I ask sarcastically (and quietly). She shakes her head.  
  
"You're here to see him? Fine, if he's awake, I SUPPOSE he could speak with you, as long as you keep it down, and be easy on him, for Hyne's sake!" she shakes her head in my general direction, her eyes closed, "The way you two behave around each other I'm surprised one of you isn't dead yet."  
  
". . .not like it would be me. . ." I mumble and I flinch again as her attention snaps to me.  
  
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," she states darkly as she takes again her former position, "If you want to go see him, then make it quick, I don't like the idea of you wandering around in my infirmary. . ." She walks off, towards her desk, and I take the break in the conversation as a chance to leave without anymore bothering.  
  
I move briskly towards the small room where Link is (or was, as I last heard). I close the door quickly behind me and it shuts tight, though not without another loud click.  
  
There on the bed lays the Elf, looking to all the world as if he is dead. I walk over to the bedside, staring at his unmoving form. His breathing is even and steady, and he's not nearly as pale as he was the last time I saw him. . .  
  
"Hey, come on, wake up," I say, taking a seat beside him. I lean back in the chair, putting my feet up on the edge of the bed. After a moment, I realize that he hasn't moved, and I sigh, "Come on Elf, move."  
  
Still nothing.  
  
I sigh again and give Link a bit of a nudge with the edge of my boot. I pull back a little as he groans, slowly coming to. A smirk lights my face as I watch his eyes open, slowly, blinking wearily at the ceiling. It takes him a moment, but then he notices my presence. His gaze snaps towards me, almost fearfully.  
  
"Hey, Elf," I say nonchalantly as he tries vainly to sit up, but it seems like he's a bit too weak for that. After some struggling with his pillows, he manages to sit up. I notice with some amusement that he won't take his eyes off of me.  
  
". . .What do you want?" he mumbles, still wary. My smirk becomes a grin.  
  
"So. . .I have a few questions for ya," I state, looking at him directly. Suspicion flickers beneath his eyes, but he stares back, looking almost as if he's steeled himself for this.  
  
"What?"   
  
"I saw something that I don't quite understand. . .But I think that you could help me," I say, he nods, "I saw a statue."  
  
He looks blankly at me for a moment, then suddenly, realization appears in his eyes, "Oh, that. You mean the statue on the horse-"  
  
"Huh? No, not that. This wasn't a statue of some horse. This was a statue of this guy, he was dressed real funny. . ." At his funny-are-you-serious look, I decided that maybe a bit more detail would be needed, "He was wearing strange clothes. . .They were like skin tight. . .Hell, it took me a few minutes to realize that he was actually wearing clothes. . .His head was all like bandaged up-"  
  
"-Bandaged up?"  
  
"Yes, damnit, bandaged up. He was wearing this strange thing around his neck. . .reminded me of some kind of a shawl thing. . ."  
  
". . .A-and what made you believe that I would know anything about this statue?" he asks, and yet, I can tell that he does know something. It's the way he speaks, the tone of his voice, I'm sure that he knows something. . .  
  
Oh well, time to play the insolent fool and pretend like I don't notice.  
  
After all, that is the easiest way to get information out of someone. . .  
  
"Well, he had pointy ears, like you do. Obviously, he was an Elf, or something. It's just, I seem to recall that the last time I was at the Tower, the statue there, the one in that stupid pool of water was of some girl. . .I think." I frown again, going over my words.  
  
"And so what? What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Well, tell me who it is, or was, or. . .Whatever! You get the idea!"  
  
"How am I supposed to know who it is? Give me something more and maybe I can help you!"  
  
"Fine, uh-" I search my brain, trying to remember something else of importance. Suddenly, an idea strikes, and I search the nearby table for a piece of paper and a pen. Link just watches me with curiosity as I reach for the writing utensils, "There was something else," I mutter, scribbling a design with the pen. Once I am satisfied, I hold it up for him to see, "Here. He had this on his shawl thingy."  
  
I watch with amusement as Link's eyes widen briefly, before regaining their normal size. Though he covered it up quickly, I know that for at least one brief second, he was surprised. Just like he was with the bandages remark.  
  
This must of solidified any thoughts he may have had.  
  
I turn the paper back towards me, looking again at my drawing. A large eye, simply drawn with only the upper and lower eyelids, the pupil, four eyelashes (three at the top, one at the bottom), and a tear. It looks strange to me, almost. . .cryptic, but I ignore that. It had a favorable reaction towards Link, and now I'll make sure that he tells me everything he knows about this.  
  
What I really want to know is why. Why would that statue be there, and why is it different from the last time I went?  
  
Could it mean something?  
  
"I-. . .Well, the statue you saw was of a Sheikah."  
  
"A what?" I ask, my face twisting into a mass of curiosity and lack of understanding, "A Sheakah?"  
  
"Sheikah," he repeats again, the words sounding like they are from some strange, ancient language. He's not looking at me, apparently finding his blankets far more interesting, "I knew two of them, once. . .Well, technically, only one. Either way, they dressed like that sometimes."  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
He looks up at me now, the stare he gives me is somewhat unnerving, "A now extinct race of Elf with deep and powerful spiritual beliefs."  
  
"If they are extinct, how did you know any of them?"  
  
He sighs, "I knew some of the last. What does it matter? They're all gone!"  
  
"If these Sheikah actually existed, then how come I don't know about them?" he gives me a strange look, and I continue, an all knowing smile sneaking past my lips, "I have been in school for a long time now. . .And guess what one of my fav subjects is? History. I know a lot, Elf, so why have I never heard about them?"  
  
He glares back at me, seeming not to like my tone. However, I don't care if he does.  
  
There's a silence between us, and not a sound in the room other then that annoying (and only now apparent) humming of the lights above us. I wish to growl in frustration, but that won't help me get an answer any sooner. Hell, it might even delay my answer.  
  
And I'm not leaving til-  
  
"SEIFER!" A voice suddenly shouts from the other side of the door, "GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"  
  
I take a brief look at Link, who is looking at the door in surprise, "I'll be back later," I state. Despite my wish to know the answer, I am not going to risk Kadowaki's rage on this. I know better then to go against her wishes. After all, the last person I want to anger is MY doctor.  
  
~*~  
  
Seifer leaves and I watch him with a cold eye. I don't know why, but I didn't really want to tell him about the Sheikah. It just seemed. . .wrong. Especially if I were to go off on a tangent about how they are from my world, and how that's a completely different world from this one. . .  
  
After all that has happened, I find my head slightly spiny. . .I mean, I don't think I've told them all yet, have I?  
  
[No no no. . .I haven't. . .I only told-]  
  
There's a gentle knocking on the door, causing me to look up suddenly. There, meekly, stands Isabel, a kind smile in her face. One hand still against the door, the other behind her back, she walks towards me, slowly, bent over somewhat to look down at me, though not in an unkind way.  
  
I raise an eyebrow at her approach, wondering what it is she's got in her hand. Seeing my interest, she comically pulls her hand from behind her back, gesturing to the small bag she has in it. After a moment she tosses it to me, and it lands almost perfectly in my lap.  
  
Seeing no reason not to, I pull the drawstrings open, revealing the contents.  
  
First to be pulled out is my ocarina, its gentle blue seeming almost to glow under the overhead lights. I set it down beside me carefully, then I reach back into the bag.  
  
Out comes my Soul Stone. . .  
  
At the touch the cold stone becomes warmer, almost as warm as. . .Skin. . .It radiates that warmth into my own hands, the blue waves within it floating back and forth, back and forth. . .  
  
"There! I thought I'd bring you those before Seifer got his grubby hands on them. I would have given them to you sooner, but it took me a while to figure out how to put that thing on a necklace."  
  
Then I notice that there is actually a light silver chain attached to my Soul Stone. It is held to the jewel by a piece of wire that wraps around it in two diagonals. I raise it closer to my eyes, trying to ignore that inviting glow so that I can look at what she's done. . .  
  
I look up to see the hopeful look on her face, which turns to all out smiles when I pull it over my head. It slips down easily, holding the Soul Stone well in place, about midlength down my chest. I smile in response.  
  
"Thanks Isabel, I really appreciate it."  
  
"Don't worry," she replies, and then suddenly her voice goes a bit differently. . .More. . .scholarly, as if she's trying to act like royalty, or the people of older days that have gone by, "I did it but for a simple song," she states, with a flutter of her eyes and an upturned nose. I resist the urge to laugh.  
  
"You shall have your song," I pull the ocarina to my lips, thinking but briefly before Saria's Song plays from my instrument. However, no matter how hard I hope, there is no answer on the other side, and so my music plays only for myself and Isabel, heard by no others. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: The next chapter might again be another little short thing (like the Impatience chapter), and if so, will be up in the next few days. Then probably, the conclusion to this chapter. . .Well, technically, the chapter after the next chapter. . .You know what I mean.  
  
That whole thing with Saria's Song, well, Link was hoping that if he played the song, Saria would answer, but obviously, she didn't, so that's what that means, if any of you are curious and all. . .you know what I'm talking about. . . 


	28. Chapter XXVII Pursuit

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXVII - Pursuit  
  
~*~  
  
I run.  
  
I'm running from everything following me, everyone out for my blood. . .  
  
It appears they somehow got word of my departure, just in time to pursue me. . .  
  
I frown. Victor is going to wish that he was dead when I get through with him. . .  
  
I jump over a fallen log, the sound of barking hounds in the distance pressuring me to move faster. I need to put as much distance as I can between us. I'm almost to the forest. . .  
  
I love the Voran Forest. So many ways to elude and ambush followers there. The entire place is a labyrinth of trees and paths and plants, land marked only by the small stream that runs through it's being. Heck, if I hadn't been there so many times in the last five years, then I would be lost five minutes after I step into the place.  
  
Speaking of the forest, there it is, not that far away. . .Maybe another five miles or so. I'm just in the thin hedges of the place. There used to be trees around here too, but the people living nearby cut many of them down for lumber, causing the tree line to shift back a good few miles.  
  
However, there is still stunted growth living around here, and the remains of what used to live in this area.  
  
Like plenty of fallen logs, for instance.  
  
I narrowly avoid slipping on a bad patch of moss, skidding to a stop before the drop off. After my speed slows, I carefully choose my jumping spot, and I leap, landing safely. At the bottom of the ten foot drop is a terrible pile of rocks and stones and small, tough shrubbery. Like thorn bushes. Darn, I hate rosebushes.  
  
Either way, that drop should slow down my pursuers for a while. Not long though, for the only real trouble they'll have is getting their hounds down. I need a better solution. . .  
  
There's got to be a way for me to out run the dogs, and give me time to reach the forest. . .If I could put enough distance between us, I could go a bit slower, and relax my body. Its aching right now, to the point where I'm nearing complete exhaustion.  
  
And I don't want to collapse with them still following me. . .  
  
The only way out of that I can even begin to imagine is the river. It runs towards the forest, and through it. Right now, I'm running at an angle towards it and the forest. . .The river itself is about a mile to the south. . .  
  
There's the blood chilling sound of hounds behind me, still back there, but closer than before. A shiver runs down my spine.  
  
If I were to cut towards the southeast, I could possibly save myself some time, getting to both the forest and the river. If I can reach it, maybe I can hide myself among the rocks, my scent disrupted by the turbulent waters.  
  
Heck, I've done it before.  
  
I can do it again.  
  
With a suddenness that bothers even me, I change direction - from east to southeast. I hope that sharp turn I made might bother the hounds somewhat, the wind is to the north, after all. Maybe I'll get lucky and the somewhat strong gales will take the smell.  
  
I've been lucky before. . .I'll just have to be lucky again. . .  
  
My eyes narrow.  
  
Victor, I won't forget your treachery. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Another short Impatience-like chapter. Same mystery character. 


	29. Chapter XXVIII White Cubes

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXVIII - White Cubes  
  
~*~  
  
"Okay," Quistis began with a sigh, bringing everyone's attention to her. I watched and listened as they spoke of things that did not really concern me, such as the results of the latest SeeD mission. There was one thing that I was interested in, though. The collapse of the tower.  
  
I was somewhat shocked, when I heard of it, and yet. . .Somehow I already knew.  
  
But how was I to get back to the world of Sanctuary? If I ever wanted to go home (something which was becoming a rising desire in my heart) then it would probably be easiest to find a way back from there. Now, with the tower collapsed, whatever energies allowed for the warp were probably scattered.  
  
I could be locked in this world, forever.  
  
Other thoughts come to my head, as they talk. I'm wondering about the statue that Seifer saw. A perfect example of a Sheikah, if I have ever heard one. And what of that statue that was there before? That one that bore a strong resemblance to me and Epona? What happened to it?  
  
As I'm thinking these things, I suddenly notice that everyone is reaching forward, towards the middle of the table. They reach for a little ceramic cup, filled to the brim with some strange white cubes. I watch as each of them grab one of these things, and pop it into their mouths. Zell notices my confusion, and turns towards me.  
  
"Take one," he says, quietly (which is a good thing, he and I are right beside each other, so I can hear his whispering), "Go on, no one's gonna care."  
  
I nod slowly before picking up one of the cubes. Zell is watching me carefully, almost impatiently. I take the cube forward and put it to my nose, smelling it briefly.  
  
Hmm. . .Reminds me of cooking supplies, for some reason.  
  
I put it in my mouth, chewing on it. As soon as my teeth break it in half, there is a sudden burst of sweetness in my mouth, like I have never tasted before. The feeling goes straight to the back of my throat, and I start coughing lightly, as if that will ease the sensation.  
  
"What the hell was that?" I ask, no longer quiet, as everyone's eyes are on me. Zell grins and shrugs.  
  
"Sugar cubes."  
  
"Sugar cubes?" I ask, and he nods, "Pure sugar?" My eyes go wide, "How could you ever afford so much sugar?"  
  
"It's cheap around here," Squall answers plainly, gaining a look from everyone except me. I'm staring at that little bowl.  
  
The others are talking again, about something to do with Esthar, a city to the east. Best in technological advances, and looking for a Garden of their own. I listen half heartily, my hand slowly moving forward for the sugar cubes. I watch everyone's eyes, and no one seems to care that I'm having another.  
  
Or another.  
  
Or another.  
  
But after about ten, that changes. I reach out again, a smile on my face. Selphie catches my hand as it moves forward again, giving a smile and a no-no kind of look. I sigh, rolling my eyes and look at the ceiling. For some reason, I seem to be. . .Restless. I want to run, or do something, other than sitting here. My foot taps the ground quickly, the only thing seemingly able to keep up with my thoughts.  
  
This is going to be a horribly long meeting. . .  
  
~*~  
  
Several hours later, it seems my 'sugar high' has worn off. Zell, Selphie, and Rinoa explained it to me later. Apparently, too much sugar makes people hyper. Now my relentless tides of energy have faded, and yet, here I am at the training center anyway. It's probably ten at night, and though I am usually in bed at this time, I can't sleep. It might have something to do with all that sugar from earlier, but I doubt that. I just feel. . .  
  
. . .Indescribably old. Like I've lived for a thousand years.  
  
I sigh, twisting my blade around. I'm practicing, despite the fact that I don't really need to. Sure, I'm still a bit weak from my stay at the infirmary, but hey, you know, that will wear off in Time.  
  
Everything does. . .  
  
"Everything?" A voice says behind me, and I start. Turning around, I can see that it's Malon, sitting on the grass, running her non existent hands across the vegetation, her eyes downcast, "Your scars should be a constant reminder that nothing truly fades. It just is forgotten."  
  
"Wh-" I shake my head, [What the Hell are you doing here? I thought you were gone?]  
  
"Me, leave?" her eyes snap up to mine, filled with glee, "I can never leave you Link. As long as you have doubts and anger and regrets, I'll be here."  
  
[But you were gone-]  
  
"Oh, I was never gone. I just left you alone for a while. After all, you were so busy with your new friends. . ." She stays quiet for a moment, her eyes back on the grass. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she looked content. However, I know she's plotting something. . .Again she looks up, an innocent smile on her face, "Me? Plotting? You said it yourself, Link, I am dead. Gone from this world. Forgotten."  
  
[Then why do you haunt me?]  
  
"I may be forgotten," she mutters slowly, her hands again gliding across the grass, "But they aren't."  
  
[They?]  
  
"Yes. . .Your 'friends', Squall and them. They don't want you here. . .They're planning against you, you know. . ."  
  
[I'm sure,] I state, rolling my eyes and looking away. Only a moment passes, and suddenly there she is, right behind me, her chin resting in the crook of my neck as she looks over my shoulder at the pool of water in front of us.  
  
"You know it Link, you can see it in their faces, can't you?" I pull my eyes away from her face to stare into the water as well. It takes a moment, but suddenly an image of Malon appears with me in the water, in the exact position she's in now. I try to jump back in surprise, but suddenly I can't move, "You can see it. . .in the way they move. . .The way they speak. . .You can hear it in their voices, can't you?"  
  
". . .what are you talking about?" I whisper, unaware that I am speaking out loud.  
  
"You can feel it in their touch. . .They are trying to deceive you, Link. They are trying to deceive you. . ."  
  
". . .Deceive me?"   
  
"Yes, and they will. . .unless you get them first. . .Give them their just rewards. . ."  
  
". . .just rewards?"  
  
". . .Yes," she breathes, "Do not let them get you, deceive THEM, kill THEM, before they have the chance to kill you. . ."  
  
". . .kill me?" I ask, and I give my head, "No. . .No. Stop it, Malon," I pull back, away and through her. The image fades in the water, "I won't. You can't trick me."  
  
"But am I truly the one who's trying to trick you?" She smiles, and fades into the air, not leaving even a whiff of evidence at her existence. I shudder, turning away from where she stood moments ago.  
  
Of course, it's not like she actually did stand there, she's just an illusion. . .  
  
Just an illusion.  
  
I sigh, turning again towards the river and looking once more at my reflection. After my battle with the Ruby Dragon my clothes got seriously shredded and became completely useless. Selphie got me another exact copy of what I wore earlier. Same sweater, same pants, same everything. It was actually rather disturbing to see my clothes lying there, perfectly fine, despite the fact that I saw them get bloodied and torn.  
  
I twist the sword about in the air, watching my reflection do the same. It's rather memorizing, actually, and I start trying some more complicated slashes, looking at my reflection, rather than my hands. After some successful moves, I try something even harder. I begin rotating the blade around one hand, keeping it moving vertically around my wrist. It completes almost a full circle when the sword's weight suddenly throws it off balance. The sword falls from my grip, the tip crashing into the ground less then an inch from my boot.  
  
"That's a hard thing to pull off," Squall states, startling me into turning around, "and useless as well."  
  
"Well, good to see you in good spirits," I reply sarcastically crossing my arms, "Anything in particular, or are you just here to give me tips?"  
  
"It's a relief to see you acting somewhat normal," he begins, ignoring my question, "So, what are you doing out here? I thought I heard some talking, but you are the only one here."  
  
"I. . .I was just thinking out loud."  
  
He nods, "Yeah. I hear that's common." He sighs, and stares out upon the water, "I need to ask you something."  
  
"Go ahead," I reply, pulling my sword from the ground. I admire its sheen before putting it back in its sheath, listening it enter with a hiss.  
  
". . .Why are you here? I mean, you've told me a lot of things, but why are you here? Why do you stay?"  
  
"I. . ." I stare out into the water as well for a moment, before turning around once more, "I've really got no where to go," I said, my voice non-nonchalant, bordering on the edges of cold, "There isn't anything here for me, true, but that goes for everywhere else as well."  
  
"Quistis is infatuated with you, you know," he says, and I nod, knowing the truth for myself, "She's been trying to ignore it, to hide it, but its still there. It bothers her, it really does. Isabel as well."  
  
"What about Isabel?"  
  
"Quistis doesn't like her very much, she's got it in her head that you and Isabel are going out or something," he gives a single bark of laughter, quiet and yet surprisingly loud in the silence of the Training Center, ". . .What is it about her, anyway?"  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"There is something about that girl, I know that much, but what is it?"  
  
"She's. . .a bit different, that's all."  
  
"Hmm. . ." Squall falls off into his own mind, leaving me rather alone. I don't mind, after all it's better than being hounded with question upon question. I stare off into the green of the forest, admiring the peacefulness of it all here.  
  
I sigh. . .  
  
It's so nice. . .  
  
A scream pierces the air and both Squall and myself snap to attention, staring off into that direction. It was female, that's for sure, but with my hearing, I can hear more voices. Both male and female. . .  
  
As well as mindless moaning. . .and not of the romantic type. . .  
  
"Undead," I hiss. Squall turns his head towards me.  
  
"What?"  
  
I don't bother to answer him, I'm already running in that direction, my sword out. I'm careful not to slip, and with my superior speed, I am there long before Squall.  
  
Good thing one of us was fast.  
  
There are five Zombie like creatures (they look a bit different. . .They aren't normal Zombies), their decaying bodies flailing debilitated limbs at their prey, which just happens to be a very horrified Isabel, and some brown haired guy beside her. They've surrounded them, about five in total, and are closing in rapidly.  
  
Without a second thought, I'm there, my sword flying amongst the dead bodies.  
  
Despite my great battle lust, I'm trying to keep some part of my mind clear. Zombies can be surprisingly hard to kill, seeing as how they are already dead. A bone shattering blow to the skull or spine will do it, as well as fire.  
  
And seeing as how these guys are wearing some remnants of armor, I might be rather hard pressed.  
  
I swing at the first one, cutting deep into his neck. Not far enough to break anything, but the force of the blow causes him to crumple to the ground temporarily. I use that opportunity to change targets, ripping the imbedded blade from the monster's neck, and slashing to my right. There, a nearing Zombie got too close, and the weapon crushes into his skull, leaving a deep cleft there.  
  
Not enough to kill, but maybe I've caused him some kind of undead brain damage.  
  
He totters to the side, and I duck an oncoming blow. It turns out some of these things still have their weapons, as well as their armor. As I fall to the ground in my effort to remain unharmed, I can't help but notice something.  
  
No matter how hard I try, that blankness in my mind is creeping forward, and I know that it will soon be followed by that euphoria that I call my battle lust. I can already feel that divine sensation sneaking up behind my mind, turning each attack into such a pleasure. I want to kill these things, I realize, and with sickening horror that I would it that much more if they were still alive.  
  
I vaguely feel myself shudder as I attack again, hitting another foe, this Time severing it's spine.  
  
Four left.  
  
As my logic blanks out completely, I am aware of only two things that are not battle related. One, Isabel is screaming in fear, and two, Squall is trying to help me. It's like he has fought Zombies before, and yet he seems still inexperienced.  
  
[These Zombies are not from around here,] my mind states somewhat cryptically, and I nod. Of course, but then where could they be from?  
  
Sanctuary. . .  
  
I twist away from an oncoming swipe, using the spin for all its momentum to attack once I've completed the turn. I cut through another, through it's decayed stomach and into the spine behind it, killing it or crippling it. It falls either way, and I now ignore it, following through with the ones behind it.  
  
If these monsters did come from Sanctuary, what are they doing here? In my state of battle lust, I could barely even remember the name of that world, never mind come up with an answer, so it was going to have to wait.  
  
After all, there was death to be delt out. . .  
  
I attack the remaining three, cutting the first one across the chest, then as the attack threw it off balance, I sliced again, snapping it's neck. I can't help but smile with satisfaction as it falls, hitting the ground with the crunch of broken bones. Another one nears, attacking, and I duck, moving sideways, out of it's range.  
  
Damn, these two still have armor. . .  
  
My smile changes into a dangerous smirk as I raise my right palm, the fire suddenly igniting into a small orange orb. The Zombies, to stupid to realize what's going on, still continue at me, and as they near. . .I plunge my hand forward, causing the orb to explode into a small nova of flame against the Zombie's decaying flesh. It's tattered clothes catch fire, and the thing, suddenly realizing its dilemma, starts flailing around, trying to put it out.  
  
I laugh, coldly.  
  
As the Zombie - who has now taken to running around in circles - nears me, I swing with my sword in both hands, hitting the thing with a sickening crunch. It goes flying off to the left from the force behind my attack, hitting into its comrade. Soon, the second one catches fire too, and they are consumed in living flames, twisting, spinning around them.  
  
Logic returns in slow waves, and when I am next truly aware of what I am doing, I have my sword plunged down into the skull of one of the Zombies. It seems that the monster had its spine broken, so it was immobile, but not dead. Undead dead. Whatever.  
  
I pull the blade from the lifeless corpse, cringing at the smells that suddenly assail my nose. The smell of burnt, rotting flesh. Not the smell of blood - which, I hate to say, compliments the efforts and the pleasure of fighting so well - but instead the smell of things that should be long sealed in their tombs. . .  
  
Sanctuary. . .That's right, I think the things came from Sanctuary. . .  
  
I frown, thinking deeply.  
  
Squall walks up to me, Isabel and that brown haired boy (who are both looking decidedly horrified at my actions) both behind him. He takes no real notice of the fact that I'm thinking, and in need of silence to concentrate, "Those were Zombies. . ."  
  
"Thank you for the brilliant observation," I reply, unable to take the sarcasm out of my voice.  
  
"But they were different somehow. . .Different from our Zombies, so to speak. What are they? Where are they from?"  
  
Suddenly, it hits me. I've only known two people that can raise such creations in such numbers, and who could send them the distance from Sanctuary to here.  
  
Diablo and Mephisto. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Oh my! Frightening stuff! (Jk, you know) Anyways. . .Well. . .It was supposed to be longer (the whole sugar rush thingy was supposed to be a lot longer, but I decided that I was too unimaginative at that point to really expand), but it's important plot wise. We are nearing the end of the first part of Act I. Act I is still aways from being over, but its slowly getting there. . . 


	30. Chapter XXIX Hyne's Legacy

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXVIII - Hyne's Legacy  
  
~*~  
  
I watch as Link, the hero Elf of the Garden, as he is now called, looks down on to the descending layers of Tear's Point. The structure where they imprison Sorceresses.  
  
The thought gives me a chill. After all we went through to save Rinoa. . .  
  
Link doesn't seem to like the area much either. And then again, if he was in my head as he said, for all that time, then he too would have experienced the entire adventure, and have similar sentiments to that of the rest of us.  
  
His eyes narrow, looking down into the area almost with hatred, and loathing. There's no real explainable reason for his reaction, and yet he does not bother to hide his emotions.  
  
Maybe he senses something down there?  
  
"Link," I begin, and he turns to look at me, the darkness in his eyes lifted, "There may be a portal here, in this place. This area is known as Tear's Point, and is the most likely place that still exists. We're not sure if there is a portal here, never mind where it could take you, but unfortunately, this is the best we can do."  
  
He nods slowly, "Yes. . .I know. I heard you and Quistis talking earlier. . .Truth be told, it will take me to Sanctuary. I know it will."  
  
"Sanctuary?" Zell asks, walking up beside us, "Where's that?"  
  
Link looks up at him with a tinge of amusement and almost sadness in his slightly slanted eyes, and I think of what he told me before. How he went along with Zell, Seifer, and Quistis to find his body. Rinoa was shocked to hear what we had to say, when Link told her the truth. So was Kadowaki, but so far, neither of them told.  
  
I'm wondering if Link is going to change that now. . .  
  
He looks back towards the Sorceress memorial, a look of remorse overwhelming his face, "It's a strange place, to be sure. Far from here, anyway. Portals take people to different worlds, and Sanctuary is a demon filled land with no sight of hope for many years to come. It is too. . .deeply entrenched with the battles between Heaven and Hell for it to be free, as Demons and Angels walk the lands. . ." Link looks again towards Zell, taking in the Martial Artist's surprised glance. He gives a brief laugh, heartless and somehow empty.  
  
"Wha?-"  
  
"Hey guys!" Selphie shouts, interrupting Zell as she runs over to us, a brown bag in her hands. It's a fair size, about as large as a good backpack, but it's in the style of a hiking bag. It looks close to full, and I am truly surprised that Selphie hasn't fallen over with it's weight.  
  
She must be stronger than she looks. . .  
  
"I'm sorry I'm late! Here's the stuff you told me to bring, Squall," she passes the bag to me, "I found everything, and everyone made their contributions."  
  
Link looks at me curiously, and I shrug, "It's filled with some supplies. I figured that if you were going on a little quest, you might as well have some stuff to live on. It's not much, but it should do."  
  
He nods, "Thanks." Taking the pack from me, he slings it over on to his shoulders, adjusting the straps. Once it's too his apparent satisfaction, he looks back up at us, "I really appreciate this, guys."  
  
"No problem!" Zell shouts, emphasizing his words with a brief jump, "It's like, the least we could do."  
  
"This might sound a bit strange. . .but, don't follow me down there," he states after a moment's hesitation.  
  
"Why not?" Selphie asks, cocking her head to one side, "We might as well help you find your way, as well."  
  
"No, you shouldn't. Say if I were to accidentally trigger the portal, any of you who were too close would also be sucked up. And I can't guarantee that I could bring you back. Ever."  
  
". . .Does that mean you won't be coming back?" Zell asks, sounding a bit disappointed. Link turns his head, looking at the ground. After a moment of thought, he looks back up.  
  
"Yes. I'll probably never find my way back here."  
  
~*~  
  
After I've finished saying goodbye to Squall, Selphie, and Zell (the later two being highly disappointed at the fact that I'll never return), I'm also paid other visits. Rinoa quickly stopped by, saying how much she and Squall will miss me, and how she won't be able to wait for my return.  
  
I didn't have the heart to tell her that I won't be able to come back.  
  
Quistis came by as well, but she said little. She may not have spoken to me much, but that does not mean that I didn't see her emotions. She seemed very reluctant, and hesitant. I wondered if it had something to do with her supposed feelings for me, but she left without anything really heartfelt.  
  
I let her go. I couldn't really say anything to her, nothing that would help.  
  
Seifer said goodbye, and little else. We shook hands, and I felt the same thing that Squall also felt from him. Competition, and a bit of rivalry. I watched him go, sad at all the people that I was now leaving behind, but glad that I wouldn't have to put up with his cocky attitude anymore.  
  
Irvine gave me no more than a nod, looking instead rather anxious for me to leave. I didn't bother giving him any gesture - good or bad - in return.  
  
Now Isabel stands beside me, and we walk down to the Sorceress Memorial together. I can feel it, I'm sure that this place has a portal. I don't know why. It's just. . .some feeling I have. With my thoughts, this strange sense of pulling, my conversation with Isabel -  
  
"Don't forget about me," Malon mumbles lazily into my ear.  
  
-And my stupid hallucinations, I'm having a hard time keeping my head straight.  
  
"So Link. . .am I right? You won't be returning, will you?"  
  
I give my head a brief shake, more to clear it than to answer her, "No, I'm afraid not, Isabel. I probably won't. It's hard to find a portal again, once you've gone through. Sometimes they can close up right behind you."  
  
"I see. . .," she looks down at her feet as we continue to descend down the stairs, "I had another dream last night, Link."  
  
"Go ahead, tell me about it then."  
  
"It was. . .strange. Blurry, out of order. . .I haven't been able to piece it together. . .I'm not sure if it's even really a vision, or just some messed up junk from inside my head."  
  
"Isabel," I take a hold of her shoulders with my hands, forcing her gently to turn and face me, "What ever made you think that I wasn't interested in your thoughts and dreams?"  
  
"I-" her eyes lock with mine temporarily, and after a second she gives me a nod. I release her, "It was really weird, though. . .Uh. . ."  
  
"How did it start?" I ask, trying to get her started. She looks back at the ground, thinking deeply.  
  
"I think. . .I think it started with. . .There was a desert, a great desert. You. . .You were traveling across it Link, but, you looked different. . ." I look at her sharply at that comment, but she did not notice my glance, "You were alone. . .You were all skin and bones again, like when you first arrived here, but worse. Then the image changed."  
  
"To what?" I ask.  
  
"An angel. With beautiful wings. . .But then. . .the wings distorted. . ." her face furrows into a bit of a frown, "The feathers grew long and wispy, like tendrils of smoke or mist."  
  
Wings like tendrils of mist. . .Tyreal's wings are like that, "What did the angel look like?" Isabel shakes her head, her eyes unfocused and trained at the ground.  
  
"I don't know, I couldn't see. . .From the tips of each of the wings fell a drop of blood. . .Blood that fell, creating ripples in a larger pool below. The ripples. . .They became waves. . . I didn't know what to think. . .I still don't. . .The waves kept growing. . .Then you were there, and the waves threatened to consume you. . .Just as the crests were about to crash over you. . .A flash of blue appeared between you and the waves. The person saved you."  
  
"What did they look like?" I ask, and again she shakes her head.  
  
"I don't know. They were covered in shadow." I watch with detached horror as her eyes continue to empty, becoming cold and almost lifeless.  
  
A normal thing for a person who is recounting the visions of the sight.  
  
". . .After that. . .I see you fighting in the darkness. . .I don't know how it's you, but I do. . .I saw your sword. It's not the one you have. . .It's different, with a silver-white blade. . . I don't like it. It's not right," she whispers, "And then there's nothing more than blood. . .What does it mean, Link?" she asks, her eyes filling again with life and facing me once more, "What does it all mean?"  
  
I shrug, "It could be something, or it could be nothing. It might be a future, or it could change."  
  
"What are you saying, Link?" she asks, a bit of left over fear still in her eyes. I sigh slowlyy, feeling the weight of the world come crashing down on my shoulders.  
  
"Time is. . .It can be changed, Isabel. . ." I watch as her eyes widen, "Squall was originally supposed to die."  
  
"What?" Her face changes to pure shock, "B-but. . .but how could that be? He's alive and fine, thanks to you. . ." she slows down as realization hits her.  
  
"Yes. . .That ocarina of mine, it's special. It allows me to. . ." I sigh, "to go back in Time. It was given to me, by a friend, long ago. Little did I know it's power back then, but shortly afterwards, I found out." Images flash through my mind, battles that occurred so long ago, "It was. . .both a blessing and a curse," Kafei and Anju, Miku and Lulu. . .How I pity them, and they'll never remember my attempts to help them. Only I will remember my failures, as well, "I used it. . .to help some friends back then, and I used it to help Squall. It. . .It's a powerful tool, truly."  
  
My mind wanders back to Termina and it's doomed inhabitants, cursed to die by their own moon. I remember the near insanity of going back and forth through Time, changing things and then still failing, and starting over. How no one but me would remember the events of what had happened, and how I was the only one who knew what would happen each day. And I would know that, and watch it again and again and again. . .How I held the ocarina tightly in my hand, more than once, wanting to break it, to crush it between my fingers and watch it shatter. To let that Goddess damned moon fall and kill every Din forsaken Elf, beast, and monster. . .  
  
A gentle hand on my shoulder brings me back to the present, and I look up into the caring eyes of Isabel, a sympathetic look on her face. She nods, as if in understanding, before turning towards the ruins again.  
  
She will never truly understand-  
  
"And you were selfish for unleashing - or trying to - your problems on to her," Malon says from behind me, and I turn wildly, facing her with malice in my eye.  
  
[And why would that be selfish, Malon? Everyone needs a release in life, and I think I'm a bit overdue.]  
  
"Admit it, Hero," I hate how she says that, "You are a protector of Time. You always have been, and you always will be. Ever since you picked that ocarina from the moat, you have sealed your fate. A bit ironic, really."  
  
[I got the ocarina from the moat?] I ask, uncertainty thick in my mind. . .Just another minor detail lost in the mists of my mind, covered by the thickening veils of Time. . .  
  
"You're hopeless, Link-"  
  
"-And why do you talk to him that way?" Isabel's voice comes from behind me, making me turn to face her just as quickly as I did for Malon, if not more so, "What right do you have to tell him about his faults and mistakes? Even if they are true?"  
  
"Isabel," I begin, "Who are you talking to?"  
  
"That girl with the red head. She's right beside you, right?" Isabel asks, her eyes starting to cloud up with confusion and curiosity.  
  
"She. . .she's not real, Isabel," I state, before turning towards the illusionary Malon, a tinge of malice in my eyes, "As much as she wishes or thinks she is."  
  
"Then how come I can see her too?" Isabel asks, and I look back at her. Why can she Malon? If she's just my hallucination, then why can Isabel see her too?  
  
Malon just laughs cruelly at my thoughts, "Poor, foolish Link. You can never see the truths, can you? Not even as they're thrown back into your face," she laughs again, fading somewhere deep into the back of my mind, her taunting watch forever in place. I sigh, wearily.  
  
"Who is she, Link?" Isabel asks, "Why is she haunting you like this?"  
  
"She's dead, she's been so for a very long Time."  
  
"Oh. . .Did you lover her?" The question causes me to look sharply at Isabel.  
  
". . .Yes, I did."  
  
"Oh," a bit of disappointment is in Isabel's voice, but it's better to hear the truth from my mouth than any truths from her dreams, ". . .What was her name?"  
  
"Malon," I say, with a slight smile to my mouth.  
  
"That's a beautiful name, and. . ." Isabel smiles and looks down at the ground, "And tell her that she is beautiful, too, if a bit bitter. And that she was lucky, to have you."  
  
I nod, briefly musing on how we never did end up together, or have any sort of an ending. I'm still living mine out, "Thank you. She might lighten up after hearing that."  
  
Raising her eyes again to meet mine, Isabel blushes, "Are you sure that I can't come with you?"  
  
"Isabel, if you were to come with me, there's a high chance that you would die. I don't mean that as an insult, as I know that you are taking good care of yourself, and that you are able to fight, but. . .I don't even know if I am going to survive, and I've fought these guys before. I barely survived last Time, and though I've grown stronger, so have they. I don't want to drag you into this."  
  
"And how do you think it makes me feel, to know that you might die? What if you get injured, and there's no one there to help you? It would kill me Link, for something like that to happen to one of my friends," she shakes her head, "I won't have it! I won't let you die!"  
  
"Isabel, Isabel," I say, gently gripping her shoulders to calm her down, "I might not die. It is not written in stone, or anything," I give her a smile, "And don't forget, you did say that in your vision, someone did save me, from that bloody wave. So, I might not be alone."  
  
There's a slight sadness in her voice as she continues weakly to make her point, "But. . .you were all alone in the desert."  
  
"It wouldn't be the first Time I've been alone, in a desert, nor the second Time. Besides, I had a dream too. Surprising, seeing as I haven't had one in quite some time."  
  
The sadness clears a little as she is once again overcome by curiosity, "Oh? What was it?"  
  
"That the Garden is going to go through some tough Times. They'll need your help, once they find out about your abilities. Your sight will be a blessing for them, it will save so many lives, Isabel," I watch as her curiosity fades, replaced now by worry, "I'd stay and help, but if I don't go, I've got a feeling that things will get worse."  
  
"So that's it, then," Isabel asks, "It's Hyne's Will, that we part?" she looks discouraged by it all, "And here we are, you with the ability to change time, and yet-"  
  
"Not everything can be changed. With each alteration there is a thousand new possible futures, but all may lead to the same consequence. Sometimes, things can't change."  
  
She nods slowly, "So, I guess I'll just have to wish you goodbye then-"  
  
"HEY! ELF BOY!" Isabel and I both turn, looking up at the top of the stairs from which we have come down. There is that Alicia girl, standing tall and proud (and still looking like one of those Amazon's from Sanctuary), with her bow in one hand. She gives us a brief nod, once we acknowldege her presence, and then she comes running down, at a speed that could almost give me a run for my money.  
  
Within moments she's standing there beside us, a cocky smirk on her face. Before I can ask she answers my question, her explanation sounding nonchalant, "I snuck on to the Ragnarok there, because I've never been here before. Tear's point, I mean, not the ship. Seifer caught me, and after a good lecture, they all told me to come down here and say goodbye. So here I am."  
  
I nod, "Well, thanks. And goodbye to you too. I've really got to-"  
  
"Oh!" she adds, smacking the fist of one hand into the palm of the other (her bow is now slung over her shoulder, next to it's quiver), "I've got to give you something, too, else I'll never hear the end of it. Uh. . ." she looks around for a moment, then her eyes light up with delight, of a sort, "Since you were actually a rather good opponent, I'll give you my bow." She reaches to take it off her back, and before I can object, "Don't worry about it, I've got another. Maybe it will help you get better, so that the next time we face, you might be able to keep up with me. It was, after all, just a fluke that you won."  
  
"Sure, Alica," I say, giving my eyes a slight dramatic roll, "just a fluke." At least her cocky attitude and love of insults has died down a bit. I don't think I could have handled this conversation otherwise. I take her bow, and sling it over my shoulder much like she did, moments earlier. After a moments hesitation, she hands me her quiver as well, almost reluctantly. I take it with a nod and some thanks, strapping it into it's proper place, next to the sheath of my sword.  
  
"Don't you look heroic, Elf Boy," Alica states with a smile, "Big hero with a white sweatshirt, a hiking pack, a sword, and a bow. You'd fit right in with one of those cheap movies they're making these days," she gives a brief chuckle before turning back towards the stairs, "Goodbye then, see ya another day!" Then she turns and runs up the many steps, reaching the top in no Time. I give her a smile and a wave, before turning back to Isabel.  
  
"That girl can have some major mood changes, sometimes," Isabel sighs, running a hand through her hair, "Well, I wish you luck. Who knows, maybe Fate will change, and Hyne will let you visit us again. . .Uh, actually, can I ask you one more thing?"  
  
This stops me in my tracks, as I was just about to walk away. But, of course, I wouldn't deny her one last question, "Sure. Go ahead."  
  
"Well, you might of told this to me before, but if you have I can't remember. We have Hyne as our God, but who do your people have?"  
  
"Bit odd for a last question, isn't it?" I ask, crossing my arms.  
  
"Oh come on," she asks, "Please? I'm curious, that's all."  
  
"We have three Goddesses. Nayru, Din, and Farore. They created our world, and those who live in it." I roll my eyes, "It's not really all that special, though. . .In my world. . .there is more evidence of a higher power than there is here. . ."  
  
"Maybe one day, I can see your world," Isabel states, turning at the sound of Zell's voice. He's at the top of the stairs, waving frantically, shouting about something or another, "I've got to go. Bye." And with that, I watch Isabel run up the stairs, towards Zell, turning around once at the top to give me a final wave."  
  
And again I am all alone. . .  
  
"You always seem to forget about me, dear Link," Malon's voice whispers in my ear, "You always forget about those most important to you. . ."  
  
[I'm not in the mood for it, Malon,] I mutter dangerously in my mind, [Isabel may think your real, but I know the truth. . .]  
  
Malon suddenly flies before me, blocking my path and causing me to go back a step, "You know NOTHING!"  
  
[And that's not saying much about you. Remember that we are technically the same-]  
  
"Oh, shut up with that," she sighs, silently fuming (I wish), falling behind as I start walking through her, "Just find whatever it is we need to find, I'm sick of putting up with your idiocy."  
  
[You know, no one said you had to stay. . .]  
  
By the Time my mind had formed the words, she was already gone, disappearing again into the back of my mind somewhere. I simply sigh, and scratch the back of my head. Now that she's gone, I can think clearly, but where to start? Obviously, there's something here, somewhere, that will let me go through a portal of some sort. . .  
  
But where. . .?  
  
I study the pictures on the walls of the memorial. They show a bit about the science behind sorceresses, and something about how it apparently is supposed all tie in with Hyne. I read it all, or at least as much as I can decipher (which, thanks to Selphie, is just about everything) and it seems that through all their complicated theories, there is but one thing they can't figure out. Who was Hyne?  
  
It doesn't matter to me, though I suppose I may have to find out to activate the portal.  
  
So. . .Who exactly was Hyne. . .?  
  
As much as I read, I make out very little. He is just as I have heard of him before, supposedly some all mighty God. It was apparently his power that lead towards the makings of the sorceresses, so long ago. There is little else known of him, and there is really only one statement that catches my attention:  
  
"It is believed that the Great Hyne was persecuted for an unknown reason, by both the mortal and immortal beings lesser than him. He was finally defeated after many years of despair, Godly wars were waged by his mighty powers, and by those who opposed him. Once the mighty Hyne was defeated, it is said that his otherworldly powers were sealed away, so that the world could once more be protected."  
  
That statement alone confused me. Before this, the writings left behind as a monument to the knowledge on Sorceresses seemed to compliment Hyne, calling him a kind and just God. But here, they referred to him as a tyrant, a curse upon the worlds. . .What had changed? And was it the people, or Hyne?  
  
I glance below the inscription, and there I think I may have finally found what I am looking for. It is a diagram, showing the supposed relationship between Hyne and his descendants, the Sorceresses. He is represented by a shape in the middle, with three points. Each corner represents something which he supposedly passed on. His mind, his body, and his soul.  
  
His mind, and it's overwhelming knowledge and abilities with magic seemed to have gone to the Sorceresses, though indirectly. According to this it went to something else first, an unknown, which then powered the Sorceresses. His soul and body, though also split through to different sources, but in a similar manner. A greater power inherited each factor of him, and then lent some of those powers to create yet more Sorceresses. . .but why?  
  
Why would the three parts of Hyne be split up, and why were the Sorceresses created?  
  
Why?  
  
I suppose it doesn't matter, for the whole shape forms what I need to access the portal that I so strongly believe is here. Hyne, and the three points representing his pieces is shaped like an upside down triangle. His mind and body are up at the top left and right, while his soul counts for the bottom point. Where the other 'greater powers' took his power, and made two more Sorceresses makes up another new triangle, but each of these facing the proper way, upright.  
  
I stare at the diagram, and how it looks like the Triforce. Perfectly so, the three triangles connected to the one in the middle. Exactly the same. After a moment longer, I narrow my eyes, and I place my hand on the far right triangle. The one where the Triforce of Courage would normally reside. My hand flat against the cool metal, I feel nothing happen.  
  
I remove my hand, and stare at my palm, as though it were its fault. With a slight hiss of a Hylian curse, I try it again, just this Time with the back of my hand - the area with the barely visible tattoo of the Triforce - against the metal.  
  
Nothing.  
  
I frown at the stupid thing. . .There's no way I could be wrong. . .This has to be the activation for the portal. . .  
  
| Try the center triangle,| a voice whispered in my mind, and before I had a chance to truly question it, my hand moved as if by it's own will on to the center Triforce, the one that was upside down. My hand hit the cold metal, palm outward, and after a second's hesitation, I tried to pull myself free.  
  
But my hand wouldn't budge.  
  
My mind is screaming at me wildly for my stupidity for falling into such an obvious trap. [If it's so obvious,] I scream mentally back, [why didn't you catch it?] I jerk vainly, trying to free myself, but I stop once I feel a burning feeling building, contrasting so wickedly to the cool of the metal. A white silhouette of light surrounds my hand, spreading farther. . .eventually consuming my arm itself in a brilliant glow.  
  
And my world disappears into a brilliant flash of white light. . .  
  
Soon to be followed by swirling red waves. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I watch as Quistis stands here with me, at the top of the stairs, staring down at where Link just moments ago disappeared into a flash of bright light. At first, when he was struggling with his hand against the stone, both Squall and Zell ran down the stairs. . .But they didn't make it in time.  
  
Now Quistis just stares at where Link once stood, her face a mask of sadness. Now, now that he is gone, possibly for good, she can't hide her feelings anymore. . .And I feel for her, deeply. . .I look back to where he disappeared with my own form of sadness. . .  
  
Why did it have to end this way?  
  
Why is it always Quistis who gets left out? Alone, and cold. . .  
  
Much like Squall.  
  
Why is it always them.  
  
"Why. . ." Quistis begins, her voice quivering, "Why. . .?" She turns towards me and locks herself against me in a near back breaking hug, and I return it willingly, "Why. . .why now? Why?"  
  
"I don't know Quisty, I don't know. . ."  
  
"Why, Rinoa? Why?"  
  
~*~  
  
I land hard on my ass, skidding to a stop on a lovely white cobblestone road. One each side of me are huge walls, made of the same marbled stone, mostly white with some black rippling through. I get up slowlyy, rubbing some feeling back into my legs, while taking a look at my surroundings.  
  
I know. . .I know this place. . .  
  
This is the Pandemonium Fortress. . .The last haven of Heaven before the Gates of Hell. . .  
  
So. . .The portal took me exactly where I needed to go. . .  
  
But I must move soon. . .This is, after all, the domain of Tyrael, and I don't want to be around once he comes back. . .  
  
But where is everybody?  
  
Where's. . .what's their names. . .? Jamella and Halbu? The shopkeepers of the area? Where are they? There's no one else here. . .No one but me. . .Where is everybody?  
  
Well, it's probably a very good thing that they are not here, otherwise I might be getting a visit from Tyrael soon. I've got to get up, and out of here before someone does come back.  
  
I take a brief look around, taking in the area. It's exactly the way I left it, half a millennium ago. Pristine and pure, yet the site of many battles, it is the epitome of divinity. . .Or, at least, compared to anything else I have seen. . .Tall walls made from marbled stone surround me, and I walk down the perfect stairs, down to the lower level. . .It's not steep or far, but instead this entire fortress lays on a slope, giving me a rather good view of Hell itself. . .  
  
A rather apocalyptic sight, to be truthful. . .  
  
Completely contrasting the gentle and yet steadfast white of this fortress is the fiery red-black of the barren waste that I can see over the high walls. . .It is desolate, I can't even see monsters on it, anymore, though that does not help its pleasantness much. . .The edges of the cliffs are licked by rising flames, and I can see the poor, imprisoned souls, chained to their posts all along the road. . .  
  
The road that will lead me to the Chaos Sanctuary. . .My eyes narrow at the thought of the horror I am about to pass through, and the danger, the blood, and the death. . .  
  
And a small part of me smiles. . .  
  
I continue down the stairs, and am just about to the gate when the light sound of cloth scraping across the ground alerts me to the fact that I am not alone. I look up, turning each which way. . .  
  
There. . .Whoever it is, is hiding behind that portion of the wall. . .  
  
I draw my sword slowlyy, logic fading as soon as I hear the hiss of the blade. . .  
  
"Come out, whoever you are," I say, an almost playful tone in my voice, brought out by the need to fight, "There's no reason to hide. . ." I smile at that comment, falling into a prepared stance, lest the battle start quick.  
  
Suddenly, there is a flash of blue and white, and I jump back just in Time to avoid getting a dagger to my heart. Instead, I've merely got a scratch on my leg, just deep enough to cut through my pants and cause my leg to bleed a little. Unable to keep track of the flash, I turn about, straining to see it.  
  
It disappears behind another part of the structure of this fortress.  
  
But now, I have a pretty good idea of what I'm facing. . .  
  
What else wears white and blue?  
  
"A Sheikah, huh?" I mutter, pausing but a moment later. What if he or she can't understand the common tongue? I don't really want to kill a Sheikah (or be killed) over a misunderstanding, so with a bit of a hesitation, I ask him/her who they are, in Hylian: "Xélco anidos agní?"  
  
There is no reply but the sound of moving cloth, and I again ready my weapon. I won't try to kill the Sheikah, but whatever happens, I've got to be careful that I don't die in the process.  
  
Again, I talk Hylian, trying to tell the Sheikah that I am not here to fight: "Vértis yanfd prénasis."  
  
Once there is no answer, I ready my weapon, only to be surprised by the sound of a hoarse, male voice, whisper somewhere to my left, where the Sheikah disappeared to, "Vértis yanga Ikas. . ."  
  
I am your Death. . .That's what he said.  
  
Those mere words, in his tone of voice have sent shivers down my spine. I am hardly ready when he attacks again, aiming this Time for my throat. Barely able to catch sight of the blue white blur, I raise my sword in defense, in awe with this guy's insane speed. As he nears, I steel myself. . .He's probably seen my attempt at defense, so I am going to have to change it somehow. . .I've got to throw him off. . .  
  
His blades hit mine (and I am able to see his weapons, two large, curved daggers) with a clash, and I push back against his weight, knocking him away. He flies away from me, hitting the ground with a slide, before running again. Again, he is nothing more than a blur to my eyes, though I almost got a look at him there for a moment. . .  
  
He's nearing again, but this Time I've got a plan. . .  
  
Somehow, for just one second, I can see him, his position, and I know exactly what to do. I whirl around to the right, bearing my blade with me during my spin.  
  
And bringing it up his arm. . .  
  
The attack stops his momentum, and I use the opportunity to grab him by his insignia decorated collar, dropping my sword and bringing my left hand quickly into his face, igniting a quick and weak blast of Din's Fire. It's really more to disorient him, rather than blind him or hurt him, and it has the wanted effect.  
  
He struggles away from my grip, cursing to the Goddesses as he scrambles. I watch him go, putting about a five foot distance between us before he finally finds the strength to again stand, one arm holding the injured other.   
  
And so I stare upon a face I could never forget, no more than I could Zelda's.  
  
"Sheik?" I ask, my voice heavy with a Hylian accent, but right at the moment, I don't care. He just stands there, burned and bleeding, yet tall and proud, only one dagger in his hand, the other lost during that last assault. It has skidded down to the bottom of the stairs, where it lays, tainted with my blood.  
  
The Sheikah warrior out of my past, the beautiful princess Zelda in disguise, rushes forward, baring that blade again for my throat.  
  
And I've got no choice but to defend myself. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Sorry for taking so long, but it's Christmas, and that's when my work's the most busiest, and I've yet to update my other stories. . . .  
  
Anyways, here's a real plot filled chapter. Yeah. Hyne and Sheik.  
  
Oh yeah, and speaking of Sheik, I'm sorry if it seems. . .overdone to bring him into a story, but trust me, he's going to be a lot different in this story than he is in most others, and also, I've got great reasoning. . .  
  
That, and I love Sheik! ^^ Almost as much as Link!!  
  
^-^  
  
Oh yes, I hoping the parting scene wasn't too bad, I tried to make it good, I really did. . .  
  
I know, the Hylian probably sucks majorly, but I tried. . .IF you must complain about, go ahead, and do so. . .  
  
I think this is good. . .I only did a spellcheck and a brief redo on one area, so if there are any problems ( I DON'T TRUST MY SPELLCHECK!!!!) then just tell me in a review, k? 


	31. Chapter XXX The Sheikah

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXX - The Sheikah  
  
~*~  
  
Sheik lunges, his dagger in hand. I, weaponless, am forced to dive out of the way, grabbing my sword as I dodge. I look back up in Time to see Sheik hit the ground where I stood only moments ago, his blade drawn and extended. . .If I had still been standing there, I would be dead now. . .  
  
How could Sheik - well, technically Zelda - get to be this good?  
  
Zelda was never this fast, nor this strong. . .  
  
And how could she still be alive?  
  
I don't know. . .But I intend to find out. . .  
  
"Zelda!" I shout out, my language falling into the ancient words of Hylian, "What are you doing?" I duck swiftly to dodge a swipe at my head, and then a quick roll to the right to avoid yet another attack. I spin around in a crouch, standing up quickly. At first, I wonder why Zelda hasn't attacked me, as she's definitely had enough Time to do so, but I see 'Sheik' just standing there, as if waiting. As soon as I am properly righted, I can see the curious look in her red eyes, the rest of her face brilliantly shaded from view by wild blonde bangs and her face guise. There is also that wrap of bandages around her head, casting shadow on her face.  
  
"Why do you call me Zelda?" 'Sheik' asks, 'his' voice definitely manly enough to pass for that of a guy's, but I can't be fooled twice, "And what has Victor told you?" 'His' eyes narrow, as if in suspicion. I narrow my own in return.  
  
"Victor? Who the Hell is Victor?" Zelda seems a little surprised by that sentence, but that wouldn't surprise me. In the society from which Zelda comes from (and in which I was born) swearing of any sort was frowned upon, seriously. She wouldn't be used to foul mouthed people such as Seifer.  
  
Or, myself even.  
  
"Don't lie to me, boy-" Boy? I was a Hell of a lot older than a boy, and she knows that! "-I know he sent you after me. . .What did he tell you, and why do you keep calling me Zelda?"  
  
"Because. . .That's your name?" I mutter, a definite lack of understanding in my voice. Zelda just shakes her well hidden head.  
  
"Tell me the truth," she asks, raising again her daggers, "Or I'll kill you where you stand."  
  
"Not a very good set of options, huh?" I ask, and she raises her daggers again, menacingly, "Listen, I've already told you, and you can't deny it, it's your name, Zelda. Why else would I call you that?"  
  
"But I - oh, I get it. You're trying to trick me, to throw me off guard. . ." I roll my eyes at 'Sheik's' jump to conclusions, as he obviously thinks I am after 'him', for some strange reason. Maybe it has something to do with that Victor person. . .  
  
Before I get a chance to ask, I am again dodging a flurry of daggers, each aiming for a vital part of my body : my eyes, my neck, my chest. . .Wow, Zelda really seems to want to kill me. . .By some unknown luck, I am able to avoid every swipe, either by blocking with my sword (which is so slow in comparison, I don't even see why I bother) or some lucky footwork.  
  
That soon changes, however.  
  
An attack nears my face, and I try to lean away from it, but I am far too slow, compared to the agile form I am fighting. I can feel a light sting igniting on my cheek, and I know that Zelda's blow has landed, though barely.  
  
Or is it really Zelda?  
  
Another attack, a sideswipe. I duck down, under the blade, only for my chin to hit something hard. 'Zelda' has managed to knee me as I sunk down, a rising hit to the face. My head snaps up, the muscles in my neck and jaw screaming. As I fall backwards, I can see Sheik spin around, delivering a devastating round house to my stomach. . .Knocking the wind out of me.  
  
I double over, falling face first into the ground. I lay there, weakly, gasping for breath, musing over how easily I was tossed down, when I suddenly feel a pain in my scalp.  
  
Sheik is hauling me to my feet, lifting me by my hair. He helps (well, in his own strange, painful way) me to stand, holding me like that until I regain my footing. Once I can stand, he releases me, and I stumble a step back.  
  
Where's my sword?  
  
I don't have the Time to look, as soon as I attempt to move, I see the blur that is Sheik (or is it Zelda?) disappears behind me, followed soon by the feeling of cold steel against my neck. . .And one arm holding me close to him, so I can't move away.  
  
Oh, shit. . .  
  
"Now," he whispers, making sure I'm aware of his weapon, "Why do you keep calling me Zelda?"  
  
"Well," I swallow harshly, painfully aware of the blade against my fragile skin, "First things first. I don't know any Victor, and no one-" well, not recently, "-has told me anything about you. So relax, for Din's Sake! I'm not after you-"  
  
The blade presses harder against my neck, and I feel a light trickle of blood worm its way down, "And how can I trust you?"  
  
I stand rigidly, shifting my weight slightly from foot to foot, "Uh. . .well. . .Give me a moment. . ."  
  
His grip suddenly tightens, "I don't have time for worthless mercenaries! Hurry it up or I'll flay you on the spot!" I roll my eyes, debating the situation with myself, when I realize something. . .Here I am, in the Pandemonium fortress, coming from a portal that lead me to the exact top of these stairs, by those pristine pillars.  
  
Now, if Sheik was in here, as I noted him to be, for that entire Time that it took me to truly notice him, then he would have seen my entrance in that white light.  
  
Now, what are the chances that two different portals (I doubt he's from Squall's world) would lead to the exact same spot?  
  
It wasn't much, but hey, it was worth a shot. . .  
  
"Okay, here, there's not much else to argue with, so please-" I stress that as I feel the blade scratch my throat almost lovingly, "-listen to me well. Did you see my grand entrance into this world?"  
  
There's almost a snarling sound coming from behind me, from Sheik, "Yes, I did. Why do you ask?"  
  
Damn, he sounds impatient.  
  
Oh well, I have to try.  
  
"Okay, so I was warped - if you will - here, at the top of the stairs. Now, where were you warped to, in this world? Come on, I know this much, there are no Elves living in this realm, never mind Sheikah-"  
  
That blade again nears my throat, luckily cutting nothing vital as it digs slightly into my flesh, "How do you know about the Sheikah?"  
  
His arm tightens around my chest, pressing me for an answer, and in a slightly strangled voice (he is, after all, got his dagger to my throat) I reply, "I-I knew a Sheikah, a long Time ago. Why wouldn't I know about the Sheikah? You are, after all, boldly dressed in their blatant colors," I continue with a slight smirk, which widens into a grin when he removes the blade and pushes me away from his body.  
  
I turn and face him.  
  
"Thank you," I mutter, raising a hand to wipe of the thin rivulets of blood that are dripping slowly down my throat, "But can I ask you one more thing?" One eyebrow arches as his eyes fill with curiosity, but I don't withdraw my question. Finally, after what seems like centuries, he nods slowly. I smile, "I used to know someone who. . .well. . .dressed much like you. . ."  
  
"That 'Zelda' person?"  
  
I nod, "Yes, you two were - are - almost identical. . ." I still can't get the idea of this not being Zelda out of my head, but-  
  
"So you want me to prove that I'm not some girl in disguise?" he asks, and I nod, "How could I do that? Well, besides the obvious?"  
  
"She used magic to make up her disguise, " I mutter, moving slowly towards him so that I don't cause any suspicion, "But, there was one thing that she could never cover up. Please, let me see your hand."  
  
"My hand?" he asks, hesitant. Finally, after a moment's wait (which, seems like so long) he nods, and gives me his left hand. I briefly glance over it, searching the back of it for some sign of the tattoo. I sigh and shake my head, and without question he shows me the back of his other hand.  
  
No tattoo. . .  
  
"Thank you," I say, running a hand through my sweaty hair. I'm disappointed, to be sure, and yet intrigued at the same Time. I was hoping that this was Zelda, and that she would remember me, but, obviously he isn't her. He is taller, much taller than Zelda ever was (he's even about an inch taller than me), and he's better built. There's also not that look of sadness that so often haunted Zelda's eyes, even when she was in disguise.  
  
No, this person isn't sorrowful. He has a good view on the world, and how it works, but he's not sad.  
  
After a bit of an awkward moment, in which this Sheikah-  
  
Hey, what exactly is his name?  
  
"Hey," I begin, attracting the Sheikah's attention before he can turn away, "What exactly is your name?"  
  
"You've already called me by my name," he states, looking down at the ground as if unwilling to meet my glance. Then, he slowly closes his eyes, as if the sight of the world itself pains him, "I am Sheik."  
  
What a coincidence. . .  
  
"Well, thank you Sheik, and sorry for attacking you," man, this is getting really awkward, "and thanks for letting me go."  
  
"No trouble. . ." Sheik's eyes narrow slightly, and his gaze intensifies, ". . .You said that you knew a Sheikah once?"  
  
"Yeah," I respond, curiosity starting to get the better of me. Why would it matter about meeting a Sheikah before?  
  
"Hmm. . ." he responds, crossing his arms and staring at me for a moment, before walking away slowly. He heads down the stairs, over to where Jamella and Halbu used to keep their shops.  
  
Where are those two, anyway?  
  
Well, it doesn't matter. If they're not here, that means that no one but Sheik has seen my entrance here, and so there's no one to tattle on me to Tyrael. I smile briefly, wiping the sweat from my forehead.  
  
Hell always had the tendency to be hot.  
  
I stare at the gateway to Hell, out at that destroyed land. Somewhere in there waits Diablo, or Mephisto, or maybe even both of them. And I'll have to fight them again, put my life on the line to destroy them. I'll succeed, and stop the attacks on Garden and Sanctuary, or I'll die and be forgotten. . .  
  
The first step's always the hardest.  
  
Taking another brief glance at Sheik, I find myself almost with my jaw on the floor. There he is, a sack in his hand open and ready, and his other hand is scooping in many of the objects that Jamella sells. Magical items of all sorts are being tossed into his bag, and he keeps gathering more and more.  
  
I never expected a Sheikah to be a thief. . .  
  
"Hey, what are you doing?" I ask, trying to keep a reasonable tone in my voice. He just looks up at me briefly, before going back to what he was doing before.  
  
"What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
"But-"  
  
"And you can't stop me," he says, slinging the now full bag over his shoulder, "What are you going to do? Fight me over it?" He continues, with a chuckle. I frown as he walks by, before suddenly moving in front of him.  
  
"You probably shouldn't do that, or-" my eyes widen as a sudden chill creeps through me, moving from my soul stone through to my chest, and from there to my arms and legs. My body freezes still, and I can't tell if I'm breathing. It doesn't matter. A sense of dread falls on me, crushing my mind under it's immense weight as a ringing noise buzzes in my ear.  
  
"Hey, are you alri-" Sheik begins, moving towards me.  
  
"He's coming," I state, my mind off in some haze. I can't seem to focus on Sheik, and am instead looking past him, "Tyreal's coming. Here. Now. We got to move." The haze blocks my vision, replacing it with a view of something else. Something. . .Tall, black, a tower. . .Maybe it's the Chaos Sanctuary? Can't tell. Suddenly, there are hands on my shoulder, and someone is shaking me back into awareness. I jump at the touch, first afraid that it is Tyrael, and that he is already here, now, and he's caught me again. However, when I open my eyes, I see that it is just Sheik, his eyes filled with a bizarre detached concern.  
  
"Sheik. . ." I mumble, my head pounding. My gaze rolls down to the floor, and Sheik gives me another good, hard shake.  
  
I look back up at him.  
  
"Are you alright?" I nod, slowly, feeling not all here, "Good, then I suggest we get out of here." He looks up to the wall behind him, and my gaze follows his. There's a stack of boxes there, stopping a third of the way up the thirty five foot wall. He nods, then looks at me again, "You're right, someone is coming, and we don't have much time." He releases me from his grip, and I find my legs steady.  
  
Before I even have Time to interrupt, or to argue, he runs over to the boxes, leaps on them, and jumps up once more.  
  
. . . And lands perfectly on the top. . .  
  
. . .  
  
What the Hell did he have for breakfast?  
  
"Uh, Sheik," I begin, "I can't jump that high!"  
  
"Of course you can," he replies, leaning over the edge of the wall slightly, looking down at me, "Just hurry up already!"  
  
I walk over to the boxes, muttering something nasty about Sheikah, before getting up on the first one. I am easily able to jump up on to the top box, but for the fact that the last one is about, oh. . .a good twenty four feet from the top, I might be just a bit screwed.  
  
I have never been able to jump that high in my life. . .  
  
"Come on, hurry up!"  
  
Almost as if to attest to Sheik's statement, I hear something from behind. Something so very familiar. . .It's a ringing noise. . .Sounds much like how I remember the Spiritual Stones hum with all their energy as they shone so brightly on the alter before the Door of Time. . .  
  
I shake my head.  
  
Where did that come from?  
  
It doesn't matter, I know what that sound is now. That is the sound of the magical energies that bind the Archangel Tyrael to this realm, keeping his form together and complete.  
  
In other words, I have only a few seconds before he comes here and sees me.  
  
And possibly reseals me.  
  
[Oh, fuck. . .]  
  
I leap upwards, trying to launch myself as high as I possibly can. . .  
  
And I miss the top by at least ten feet.  
  
"Hurry up," Sheik hisses down at me, "He's almost here."  
  
"You're telling me," I mutter, but I try again anyway. The wooden crate of the box falls below me, and my hands skim the surface of the stone, perhaps looking for a place to grab hold, or something. . .I near the halfway point and. . .  
  
I can't do it, I just can't jump high enough. . .  
  
This Time, as I fall, I lose my footing on that stupid old box below and fall flat on my ass on to the hard stone. The box now has a nice little dent in it from my bad landing, and I'm no closer to the top.  
  
Damn it, I'm screwed.  
  
"Come on," Sheik says, his voice sounding some how dreadfully final, "Grab my hand." He leans over the side of the edge, about four feet from the top, looking only slightly ridiculous, "Grab my hand. Come on." I stare at him for a moment, before narrowing my eyes. I nod once, solemnly, and I run. There's only a few feet between me and the boxes, but I need all the speed I can get. I leap up onto the highest crate and without stopping, I jump up again.  
  
Come on, come on, comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon. . .  
  
The hum of Tyrael's energies is getting louder.  
  
My hands again skim up the stone, but this Time higher, higher up, searching for his bandaged hand. . .  
  
There it is! His hand locks around mine, and I thud painfully against the hard stone wall as he drags me up. Scrambling up over the edge, my feet find little purchase on the rock, but just enough that I can finish climbing over, and to safety. . .  
  
However, as the humming strengthens, I fear that it will take more than a wall to block us from Tyrael's view.  
  
I look over at Sheik, my heart thudding hard due to adrenaline (and in tune with the pounding in my head). He's looking back at me, his face mostly blank of emotion, and what I can see there makes no sense, nor can I describe it.  
  
Sheikahs are definitely not the masters of emotion.  
  
"We must hurry," he mutters, "We don't know how long we'll remain safe." He reaches for my shoulder, to help guide me perhaps, but I suddenly jerk out of his reach.  
  
"And why are you doing this? Bringing me along with you? You could have left me back there for them to see."  
  
His eyes narrow, dangerously, "We don't have much time, we can discuss it later."  
  
He leads me over to the edge, on the opposite side of the wall, and we look at what lays before us. There's a small ledge of land, before the steep craters that lead deeper into the depths of Hell, more than wide enough for us to land on, though, and it leads all the way back to the gates, so we can continue on, without having to re-enter the fortress.  
  
"Okay, ready?" he asks me, and before I have a chance, he jumps and pulls me with him, down towards the ground. I struggle not to yelp in my surprise as the ground rushes up and me, closing the distance far to quickly for my liking.  
  
I land, luckily without a crack, just falling to my knees instead. My hands come between my face and the ground, and I breathe harshly, trying to think around the pounding in my head and the harsh beating of my heart.  
  
Sheik, however, landed perfectly on his feet, standing up with a triumphant look in his eyes, "Good, we're safe now."  
  
The cracking of stone and the loosening of rocks alerts me otherwise. A sound like thunder erupts through the air, and the land trembles.The whole ledge shifts, and then slides down, down into the abyss. The ground beneath me crumbles, giving way completely, and the last thing before darkness consumes me is the vision of Sheik falling with me.  
  
"Damn it," I mutter, losing myself within the cloud of dust and falling rocks.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Anyways, for quick info, they were both talking Hylian for the entire episode, and uh, well, they're falling now. Gasp! What happens next time? Find out next week!  
  
For a pretty good picture of Diablo in his complete demon form, here you go:   
  
http://www.diabloii.net/screenshots/fan_art/030508hamann  
  
He's a bit bigger than he should be, in my opinion, but that's the closest I could find to what he looks like.  
  
Anyways, I'll see ya all later, and thanks for reading and reviewing! Bye! 


	32. Chapter XXXI Tyrael

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXI - Tyrael  
  
~*~  
  
When I come to, I find myself staring at my own arm, outstretched. I take a brief mental check, and after seeing no blood on either the bandages or my white and blue bodysuit, I decide to try to get up. My joints are a bit sore, and after pushing away the weights on my back and legs, I can see why.  
  
I'm lucky not to have been crushed to death.  
  
There's rubble strewn about, scattered from the landslide. The dust has long since settled, leaving a thick coat over my face and arms. I brush it off, wincing slightly as I discover some hidden bruises.  
  
How long have I been out?  
  
It isn't until then do I remember the young Elf who I fought with earlier, however long ago that may have been. I glance about the rubble, searching for any sign of life. But all that greets me is the sight of more and more fallen rocks, a bit of a chalky yellow color compared to the dead grey-brown of the area.  
  
Wait! What's that?  
  
I run over to the object of my attention, trying not to trip on the uneven ground. Kneeling down, I move a fair sized rock off to the side, and underneath is both what I feared to see, and hoped to at the same time. I check quickly for a pulse.  
  
So, my mysterious 'companion' still lives. . .  
  
I clear off the rest of his body, removing the various rocks and debris that covers him so tightly. If anything at all had been different, I would be staring instead at a bloody puddle, rather than an Elf.  
  
Leaning in, I test his temperature. I frown. He's warm, a little more than I'd like. . .He might be sick. . .  
  
It is entirely possible. Looking at his arms, I can see that they were burnt, not all that long ago, though the injury is too healed for me to tell how severe it was. He also seems to have sustained considerable damage to his chest, reciently, as well. . .  
  
If these wounds truely are recient, and were unproperly treated at any point, then he may indeed be sick. Though, he looks like he was well taken care off. . .  
  
I frown again, and this time give his cheek a light slap. He mumbles something incoherently, rolling his head away from me. It's not much, but enough to get rid of my frown. I give him yet another slap, harder this time, and his eyes flicker, before opening slowly.  
  
"Good to see you up. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
Through the blackness there is pain, an ache that brings me to full awareness. Forcing my eyes open, I stare dumbly up at a mess of colors, a blur that I cannot even begin to comprehend. My head pounds, as if trying to force me back into more sleep.  
  
"Good to see you up," a voice mumbles, and I recognise it instantly to be Sheik's.  
  
But Sheik is Zelda, and she's dead by now, isn't she?  
  
Then the events of the last while suddenly come back to my mind.  
  
As if waiting for this moment, just to mock me, my vision returns (though my headache remains), and I find Sheik (a definately male version of Sheik) standing right over me, his eyes lightly tinged with concern. He's covered in a chalky dust (as am I), his face nonchalant and cold. . .well, mostly. . .  
  
With a gasp, I get up, glad to find my knees steady. I look back up from where we've fallen from.  
  
I can't believe that we survived. . .  
  
The walls of the Pandemonium fortress stand tall and proud, over two hundred feet above us. . .  
  
We fell some hundred and fifty feet. . .  
  
I look to see Sheik standing next to me, his gaze also focused on the fortress above. Once he notices my eyes on him, he turns, crossing his arms as he does so.  
  
"This may sound a bit odd," he begins, sounding both nervous and yet fully confident and unyielding, "but what is your name? You know mine, and I would be glad to hear yours."  
  
"Huh?" I didn't tell him? Great Nayru, I'm getting absentminded these days, "Oh, sorry. I'm Link," I hold out my hand, which he takes carefully, "Nice to meet you."  
  
"Yes, indeed," he looks back up at the fortress, "Though I must say the circumstances are rather odd."  
  
"I've seen worse," I mumble, barely aware of the fact that his attention snaps back to me. I'm no longer looking in his direction, but away from the Pandemonium fortress, towards the fiery rivers that define this accursed land, "Say, have you any idea on how to get out of this pit into which we have fallen?"  
  
"Not a clue, I've never been here before."  
  
"I have. . .but that was a long Time ago, and I never came around here. . ." I scratch the back of my head, "I guess if we follow the lava here, and keep to the left, we could probably reach that ledge over there," I point to a narrow section of rock that hangs over the lava. It rounds the corner, and off in the distance I think I can see it rejoin with a larger piece of land.  
  
"That does appear to be the only way out of this 'pit', as you so aptly put it," Sheik mumbles, before nodding, "Alright then, I guess we should head out."  
  
"Yeah- wait, my pack!" I start, looking about vigoriusly for my lost belongings, "Shit shit shit shit. . ."  
  
"What are you complaining about?" Sheik replies gingerly, giving his head a brief shake. I guess he's still not over my swearing. . .  
  
"My backpack, it's gotta be hear somewhere. . ." I dig around in the rocks, desperate. That, however, is replaced by elation once I feel the fabric underneath my fingers. Ignoring my bleeding knuckles (the cuts on them being reopened my scrounging), I pull the bag up and out, only to see-  
  
Damnit, Farore. The bottom's just about completely ripped out.  
  
Fuck.  
  
But wait. . .There's still weight to it. . .I look inside, happy to see that not everything fell out and got smushed. I pull out several smaller bags, taking a look at the things inside.  
  
Some rations, not nearly enough for a long trip, but maybe enough to get me (and Sheik, if we can get along) out of Hell.  
  
A canteen of water, just about as good as the rations, not nearly enough, but it should do for the next while.  
  
The rest of the stuff must be the parting gifts that the others gave me, but telling by the few pieces that are in here, I think that some must have fallen out.  
  
I open the small black box in my hands, revealing a pair of obsidian colored gloves. I quickly pull them on, reveling in the comfortable feeling. They're tight, but not too much so, and flexible. . .Thin, but warm. The fingers are also gone, allowing me to better use things, like my sword.  
  
Now, who would give me gloves?  
  
That is a question so easy, I shouldn't have even needed to ask myself. Zell, of course, being the martial artist, would have given me gloves.  
  
I look back to the pack. . .What else is there in here?  
  
A roll of bandages. . .It seems to actually be from someone, and therefore, I think that it is Quistis' parting gift. Maybe she was worried about me, and sent that as a precaution. . .?  
  
I shake my head. It doesn't matter. . .Hey, what's this?  
  
Near the bottom of my torn bag, there is a white powder clinging to the sides. . .I frown, catching a bit on my finger before testing it.  
  
Yep, just what I thought it was. I begin digging through the smashed remains within the bag, searching for that elusive object.  
  
And at last, I see the present from Selphie to me.  
  
One whole box (though broken, bent, and twisted) of sugar cubes.  
  
~*~  
  
It's been two whole hours now, that narrow ledge is a Hell of a lot longer than it looks. I frown, gingerly rubbing the bridge of my nose. And to make matters worse, it seems the heat from the lava has effected my headache, causing it to become a swirling mass of pain deeply rooted in my mind.  
  
I wouldn't mind taking a bit of a rest. . .  
  
And I would, too, if it weren't for Sheik. He looks like he's in a bit of a hurry to get out of here (and who wouldn't be? This IS Hell, afterall), and I don't want to show weakness from something so small as a headache, for Farore's sake. . .  
  
A burning-and-pounding-and-thuding,-writhing-in-angony-headache. . .  
  
I can't help but sigh, feeling my body get sore and laggy. . .  
  
And suddenly, a rock beneath my foot loosens, causing me to loose my balance and fall. My knees scrape the ground painfully, twisting and struggling to get a foothold. The lava's rushing up at me, as I start to slip off the ledge and down into the abyss-  
  
Strong hands grab my shoulders, keeping me from falling into the lava. Soon I am hoisted back on to the hard rock of the ledge, lain down gently on the ground. I am about to get up and make some excuse on how I simply slipped, but before I can Sheik instantly has his hand on my forehead.  
  
"Din. . .you're sick, aren't you?" he asks, removing his hand, I shake my head, groaning at the pain it causes.  
  
"No. . .just a headache. . ." Why do I suddenly feel like I'm swimming through my thoughts. . .?  
  
"Come on," Sheik mutters, helping me to my feet, "You obviously aren't feeling good, and the next area looks rather patchy. . .I'll help you across. . ."  
  
I don't argue, knowing that it would be both futile and a waste of my precious energy. As Sheik lifts me to my feet, pulling my right arm over his shoulders and holding it there to keep me up. I use the little energy I seem to have, wiping the sweat from my brow.  
  
With Sheik's help, I start hobbling forward, closer to the ever nearing end of the ledge. There, it widens back out, forming an area where we can rest just fine.  
  
He was right, when he said this area doesn't look very good. The rocks here seem looser than they did in the other area, and Sheik almost looses his footing several Times, but luckily he is always able to catch himself before he falls.  
  
It seems that with each step we take, my headache grows worse, digging at the edges of my mind to be released. Scraping, clawing, pounding, it gnaws at me, causing me to wince and shut my eyes, hoping to keep out the pain.  
  
But the pain is from the inside, not some foriegn torture.  
  
Sheik's grip on me loosens slightly, and with purple spots dancing before my eyes (half open to the world), I stumble away from him. My hands grip my head angerily, as if it someone's fault for the pain that is wracking my mind.  
  
My sight blocked from the world around me, all I can see is purple spots and hazy splotches, twisting and weaving around me, cutting me off from my surroundings. I fall on to my knees, begging inwardly for the sudden pain to stop, when suddenly. . .  
  
I can see everything. . .  
  
For miles around us, in every direction, there is not a single monster. . .I can see the land pan around beneath me, my eyes searching. . .There is not a one. . .Where are all the monsters. . .? This is Hell, there should be monsters. . .  
  
That white static haze appears again, blocking my view and instead replacing it with another. . .There is the Archangel Tyrael, in all his divine glory, standing at the gates of the Pandemonium fortress. He looks up to the sky, as if searching, before suddenly taking flight, his wings waving through the air like mist in a gentle breeze.  
  
The static again. . .'purifying' my sight. Now, instead of a pristine fortress with an angel in flight, there is a lonely cliffside, with a dead grassy plain. . .In the middle of this strange plateau, surrounded by ominious clouds, stands a tall dark tower. . .  
  
In my mind's eye, I circle around it, my body gone. I move towards it, slowly at first, but ever faster, until the land below me is just a blur of a dead green-grey color. The tower steadily approaches, high and tall, twisted and malicious. It is an obsidian shade, deep and dreadful, as if a monument to death itself. As I near, I realize that there is one outreaching part of the tower, a long section that curls onto itself, creating an open ended arena.  
  
Through the arena I speed, no control over my movements. The bodies of many dead soldiers lay before me, pieces of armor littering the landscape. Corpses of monsters and demons and men, all strewn about the long abandoned arena. Bones stick up high from the ground as if another monument, covering the open space like graves.  
  
Still over all of this I speed, and finally a door opens at the end. I head forward, towards it, over the bones and bodies and the blood, splattered around in patterns that make my head spin, or, I suppose that could just be my headache. . .  
  
Through the door I go, and the darkness beyond greets me, cold harsh and cruel, yet inviting and embracing. . .I relish the feeling for less than a second, before I start moving again. Up staircases and through halls. . .all heading to some unseen end. . .  
  
After what seems like years of travelling, I stop so quickly that I wonder if my mind hasn't blown a circuit. There, is a door, no more elegant than any of the last ones, simply wood with metal hinges, and yet, it is the final door. Of that there is no question. . .  
  
It swings open, no noise whatsoever, revealing the darkness beyond.  
  
In that darkness forms two flaming red eyes, narrowed in a frown.  
  
And a laugh echoes through the hall, cold and uncaring, yet content and triumphant.  
  
The world fades into black. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A cold, wet feeling causes me to jerk in my slumber, the coolness freezing my feverish mind and causing me to pause. A shudder wracks my frame, as I groan aloud.  
  
"Relax," a voice states in a whisper from beside me, "It's alright. . ."   
  
I force my eyes open, blinking worriedly at the massive smear before me. It's a mess, through which only the blatant colors of the Sheikah uniform are obvious. I watch his form, wearily, as he moves his hand from his side, to my head. It was carrying something, but I can't see what. . .  
  
The cold strikes my head, and I understand.  
  
A cold cloth. . .of some sort.  
  
My thought process again hitches at the cold, but this Time, I make no effort to remain conscious. . .Blackness takes me under it's blissful veil, and I surrender willingly.  
  
~*~  
  
I'm not quite sure when exactly my consciousness returns to me, I am only sure that I am again aware, if not quite awake. That level is just within my reach, I know, but I am not sure if I want to reach it. I can't quite remember what has happened to bring me down to this state. The answers elude me, and I don't dare to chase them. The mere thought brings pain to my head, in splitting, awful strikes, but one word keeps popping up in my mind. . .  
  
Hell.  
  
I gingerly open my eyes, dismayed when dispite my caution a searing pain lances through my head. I groan aloud, unable to silence myself at the mind numbing ache. There's the sound of approaching footsteps, and I try my eyes again, more slowly this Time.  
  
The heat is baking me alive, making me feel like a roast turkey. . .I am vaguely aware of sweat on my forehead - along with something else - but as the sound of crunching gravel stops, that is removed. . .  
  
I blink, forcing my eyes to focus.  
  
What is going on?  
  
The tone of red that dims the sight of my eyes seems to stir some memories within me, and I try to remember. . .It is all so distant in my mind, that I have to wonder if I haven't somehow managed to damage myself, after whatever happened.  
  
I try harder.  
  
Eventually, things indeed clear up, allowing me to see that it IS Hell that I am in, and that I am not alone. Sheik kneels beside me, a cloth - no, not a cloth, a strip of a bandage, discolored with sweat and grime - in his hand. He moves slowly, almost as if not to alarm me, placing the bandage on my head.  
  
The cool of the wet bandage (which has been serving as a cold, damp cloth) again causes me to halt all thought, my eyes flickering half closed uncontrolably. I can feel Sheik moving the cloth about on my forehead, wipping away the sweat that has accumilated there. Needless to say, I am grateful, if a little speechless.  
  
"Finally. . .You're looking a bit better now," he mumbles, almost as if to himself, "You've been out for a while. . .I can't really tell time in this place, but I'd say it's been at least a day. . ."  
  
"A day. . .?" I whisper, finally regaining control of myself and my thoughts. I gingerly test my muscles, disappointed to find them weak and unwilling, tired and strained. . .  
  
"Yeah, at least," he looks away from me, instead facing off somewhere in the distance, "I'm surprised, actually. . .for the amount of time we've been here, I would have expected something or someone to attack us. . .but. . .nothing. I can't understand it, this land gives off such an evil feeling. . .and yet, there is nothing here. . ."  
  
I blink slowly, taking in all that he's said. Hell is indeed full of monsters, and even with his speed Sheik would have a hard Time defending himself, never mind keeping me alive as well.  
  
Now where have all the monsters gone?  
  
The only answer that even begins to come to my mind is that Diablo or Mephisto or whoever has decided to do some massive attack, and is pooling their forces, drawing them away from the borders of Hell. . .That, or, they're trying to protect something.  
  
When I last came to this foul pit, it was so overun by monsters that there was hardly any space to move without getting some vile weapon swung at your head. There were the Corpse spitters, strange creatures that actually devoured the dead bodies nearby, and then spit them back out as an attack. There were those things. . .I can't quite recall what they were called, but I remember well enough what they looked like. Lizard-like creatures with six long, spindly legs, pale pink in color. They would reproduce at such rapidity that I often ended up killing them slower than they were being born, right there in front of me.  
  
There were the Venom Lords, large beasts that had much of the figure of bulky men, except for their green skin, horendous size, and bat like wings. They always carryied around those large scimitars, caked in blood.  
  
The last, and the worst of the monsters I fought in Hell were those foul Oblivion Knights. They would either be mages, and blast away at me with magic and deadly curses, or hack and slash away at me with long swords. They looked like long dead bodies, skin pale and taught over skeletal corpses, wearing the armor of old kings and knights.  
  
There was an unbelieveable array of monsters in Hell, and yet there are none attacking us. . .Sitting up carefully, I take a look around. It appears that Sheik and I did make it to the far ledge, giving me a good view of the area. Rivers of lava weave in and out on this empty, dead plain, but no monsters. . .  
  
It just doesn't make sense. . .  
  
"You think you can walk?" Sheik asks quietly, bringing me out of my reviere. I blink, before nodding.  
  
"Yeah. . .I'm a bit tired, but I think I can handle it. . .I think we should getting moving as soon as possible, anyway."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"I think Tyrael's hunting us down," I sigh, supporting myself with one hand while using the other to run through my messy, grimey hair, "Though. . .I don't understand why he hasn't found us yet. . .We only really fell off that cliff. . ."  
  
"Who is this Tyrael, exactly?" Sheik asks.  
  
"He's. . .He's that guy who almost caught us at the Pandemonium Fortress," I sigh again, lowering my second hand for more support against the ground and the weakness in my back, "He's an Archangel, to be precise."  
  
"An Archangel. . .?" Sheik whispers, his eyes widening slightly, "Truely?" I nod.  
  
"Yes. He's not the only angel around, though," I take another brief glance at our surroundings, "I fought one here. A Fallen Angel, went by the name Izual." I blink, staring out almost blankly into the dead lands as I tried to picture Izual's fallen form, "They bound his spirit into the corpse of some hideous monster from the Abyss, his punishment for some treachery. . ."  
  
"So, you've been here before then?" he asks, and I nod, ". . .Where exactly are we?"  
  
I glance sharply at him, his question shocking me beyond words, "You. . .you don't know about this place?" he shakes his head, curiousity in his eyes, however slight, "Heh. I didn't think anyone would manage to stumble on the entrance to Hell. . ."  
  
"Hell?" he looks at me, and I nod, "Like the Underworld, Land of the Dead?"  
  
"Yep, you got it right."  
  
"So that is why this place reeks so bad of evil. . ." he glances about himself, almost nervously. I smirk lightly.  
  
"I can't smell anything, well, nothing besides brimstone." Taking my Time, and being careful, I fold my legs beneath me, tenetively pushing myself to my feet. My knees lock, then suddenly loosen, making me sway.  
  
Before a word can be said, Sheik is there, holding me up until I regain my footing. I do so, without saying a word, but instead giving him a brief nod of thanks.  
  
"Do you need help walking?" he asks, I shake my head.  
  
"No. . .no, I should be fine," I take several steps away from him, only to find my knees are shaky and unsteady, "Well, maybe."  
  
His eyes seem to lighten slightly at that, loosing some of their seriousness and he comes over again to help hold me up.   
  
"Come on," he whispers, hoisting one of my arms around his shoulder, like before, "Let's get moving." He picks up my back pack, straps it to his back, before picking up his own bag, probably filled with his provisions and his stealings. A slight frown comes to my face at that thought, but I shake it away quickly.  
  
Everyone has to find a way to make their living, and besides, during my Time in Sanctuary I got most of my money off of the corpses that I killed. It was not a pleasent thing, and I was not proud of the fact that I was raiding long dead bodies and even at Times tombs, but I had no choice. It was that, or starve.  
  
As it was, I barely made it by.  
  
Once we were ready, we set out. There is much ground to cover, though I had no clue where we are. I wonder briefly on how long Sheik is going to stick around. To tell the truth, after I saw him stealing and everything, I am surprised he woke me up after our fall. I was even more surprised when he bothered to look after me while I wasn't feeling good.  
  
Speaking of which, I wonder why I wasn't doing so well?  
  
I don't remember much. . .I wasn't feeling good, I had a serious headache, and I. . .I saw something. . .didn't I? Yes, there was something. . .but what was it?  
  
I can't remember. . .  
  
After a good long Time of helping me about dutifully (I'm not sure how long, Time is impossible to tell in this accursed realm) I am again walking on my own, cursing the stiffness in my legs, but otherwise alright. Sheik keeps a close eye on me, concern lightly etched in the small part of his face that I can see.  
  
I am glad to know that he's not emotionless, as the Sheikah always portray themselves, just a little reserved. I can't help but worry about other matters. My thoughts keep coming back to why I am here, and all those who I left behind. . .  
  
A sudden chill wracks my still weakened frame, and Sheik runs to my side catching me before I fall. However, I take little notice of him. I am instead looking behind us, at the figure that floats less than twenty feet back there.  
  
"Uh. . .Hi, Tyrael. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Oh, by the way, I think I mentioned this before, but again for good measure. This is NOT a Yaoi fic. Just to let ya know, ya know? Anyways, just wanting to make that clear.  
  
Well, that's it for today! Thanks for reading, see ya all later!!! 


	33. Chapter XXXII Rivers of Fire

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXII - Rivers of Fire  
  
~*~  
  
"He was nothing Heaven could save. . ."  
  
-ICP, "Echo Side"  
  
~*~  
  
|Greetings Hero,| the voice of the archangel Tyrael welcomes me, sounding warm and forgiving, yet cold and down to business, |I knew that this day would come. You have traveled long and far, my mortal friend, and I regret what I will have to do.| I watch as the form of Tyrael floats closer, the tips of his wings waving in an invisible breeze.  
  
"And just what is it that you 'have' to do?" I ask, one eyebrow arching as I watch for any sudden movements. I know that he's not going to try anything, as he is more honorable then that, but I still must be cautious.  
  
|You know well enough my motives for seeking you out,| he replies, his voice still stately - a divine sound when coupled with his echoey voice, |I wish not to do this to you, as I have said earlier, but there is no other way. You must be sealed.|  
  
"And why must I be sealed?" I ask, taking a step forward, "Why is it that I must be bound and chained to an eternal prison, to rot and decay like the Prime Evils themselves did? Why am I to go mad there? Had you let me live my life normally, I would be long dead by now, and whatever it is you're fearing would have never come!. . .Why must I be sealed?" My voice has taken on a near venomous tone, my hands are shaking. . .I have lost so much. . .so much because of some stupid petty fear! What could I ever do?  
  
|Keeping you out in the world wouldn't have solved anything, Hero,| Tyrael replies so quietly that I step forward again, |You wouldn't have died. . .|  
  
I frown, "What are you saying?" Another step forward. "Of course I would have! It's been over five hundred years, almost six since you sealed me! The tales of the Prime Evils is no more now then just a legend," I glare darkly at the angel, anger and hate beginning to well up inside of me, "Why did you seal me?"  
  
The Archangel sighs, |Madness was doomed to overtake you, Hero, before the end. I have told you that before, and I say it again now. In your insanity, you could cause much more pain and suffering than they ever could have. You would have been no better than they.|  
  
"I would not go insane," I say, crossing my arms, my glare still firmly planted on the black, featureless face of the Archangel, "You know that, though you don't seem to want to admit it. . ." I narrow my eyes, suspicion leaking into my thoughts. I glance over at Sheik, who seems lost and alone. He probably can't understand a word we are saying. . .  
  
Right now, he's just staring at Tyrael, wonder in his eyes. He's never seen an angel before obviously, by the look on his face. Well, as much as I can see of his emotions. I look back at Tyrael, taking in again the sight of one of Heaven's highest angels.  
  
Golden robes decorated with arcane symbols drape over his body, guilded with silver, and shining beautifully in the light of the nearby lava rivers. He floats there, drifting up and down slightly, hovering there without the use of his long, glowing tentacle wings. His wings themselves must stretch at least fifty feet in length, though they seem to fluctuate slightly. The little of his face that I can see under his hood is black and featureless, emotionless.  
  
A form fitting for a divine warrior of Heaven. . .  
  
Suspicion floods back in, "It's something more. . .you are not telling me everything. . ." He's obviously not going to leak straight, clean answers to me, so let's try a little careful footing, "You knew I wouldn't go mad, so what could it be?. . .How did you know I was free?"  
  
|Chiron's death sent shock waves through the spiritual forces, and thus I knew instantly that he had died. You didn't kill him, no, I know that you had help. What I don't understand is how they managed to find you. Either way, shortly after his death, I made my way to the Monastery. It was not hard to figure out what had happened.|  
  
"What about at the Fortress?" I ask, my eyes again narrowing. Something is just not fitting. . .He's not giving me any clues. . .  
  
|I almost missed you, entirely. It was just luck that I was able to track a hint of your spiritual essence lingering in the air," if he could, I'd swear he'd smile, "An advantage of being an Archangel. I'm finely in tune with the energies of the world around me.|  
  
"I can see that," I mutter, "But why are you so adamant on sealing me? What could I do?"  
  
|More damage than you can ever imagine. . .you defeated Diablo and Mephisto, a task that no other warrior could rise up and do. How do you think that the rest of the world will fare when you go mad?|  
  
"I will not go mad!" I shout, taking a step forward, making a very Squall like gesture as I sweep the air before me once with my arm. I stand now less than ten feet before the form of Tyrael, and it takes all of a second for my mistake to sink in.  
  
|I cannot take that chance, Hero,| with lightning fast speed, a wing tentacle lunges towards me. I dodge it easily, despite the lingering of my headache and the soreness in my body, just by jumping to the side. The tentacle reaches where I stood, moments before, and now sweeps towards me, in an attempt to catch me with no where to run. I simply smirk.  
  
I may not be a Sheikah - able to leap over tall buildings - but I am an Elf.  
  
I easily bound over the wing tentacle, missing it completely, and I land on my feet with a grace that comes so naturally.  
  
Tyrael, you're going to have to do a lot better than that. . .  
  
Before the thought was done, more tentacles come towards me, five of his many. Swooping in on me like birds of prey, it is all I can do to dodge the first two, before the other three begin to close in on me.  
  
I can't do this. . .  
  
Suddenly, Sheik is beside me. He pushes me out of the way, and then leaps high, leading the tentacles up into the air, and even further away from me.  
  
I take the time of the distraction to stand up. I brush myself off absentmindedly as Sheik pulls off a stunning flip some fifteen feet into the air before falling back down quickly, confusing the tentacles as they twist and wrap into each other. Some surround him on his sides, but he avoids them, moving as fluidity as though he were a fish swimming through water.  
  
He leaps backwards, landing perfectly beside me, still facing Tyrael.  
  
"Vinsta xarios," he mutters, and it takes me a minute to realize that he's not speaking Common, rather, he's speaking Hylain. He's saying that we should go, and I nod, fully agreeing with him.  
  
There couldn't be a better time to go.  
  
We both turn and run, heading off in our earlier direction. Now that we've reached the ledge, we've got a lot of room to move around with, but I don't think that's going to help much. We can stay here, and run around as much as we want, but there's no way to escape Tyrael. I highly doubt that fighting him would be much use, either. . .  
  
But, if we were to hide. . .   
  
Ahead there is a high cliff wall. Inescapable, unclimbable, it is a great barrier. . .Or, it would be, if we could go through it. . .There is a noticeable crack in the base, small enough for a man, but too big for such a being as Tyrael. . .If it does lead to a cave, we're saved. If it doesn't then we could be in for some trouble. . .  
  
Exhaustion is already seeping in my body again, slowing me slightly. I fight it, pushing myself forward. My legs beg to crumble, to fail, and to sleep. I seem so tired. . .probably still sick from earlier. . .But I will not give in! I will not be sealed again!  
  
Before us lays a network of lava rivers, crossed by small sections of land fashioned as stony bridges. Luckily, the path is mostly straightforward, with only a few twists and bends, but it might not be enough. As we near the first turn, I slid, waiting till I slow slightly before changing direction. Sheik, I notice, doesn't bother to slide. He simply turns, the movement so sharp that I cannot see how he manages to stay up right. He's following me stride for stride and yet looks like he's taking it somewhat easy.  
  
I wish I could say that much for myself. . .  
  
My breath is beginning to come sharply, my body being drained of it's energy so fast that I'm slowing on the spot. I push my limitations. . .I need to go further. . .My legs burn, begging for rest, but I don't stop. I move, faster than I have ever done so before, fighting for each stride I take. . .  
  
The cliff. . .so far off in the distance.  
  
I inhale sharply, trying to get oxygen to my lungs. . .  
  
An ache develops in my head, stabbing with each step I take. . .  
  
Sheik and I dash around another corner, and I look back briefly, horrified to see Tyrael just fly over that corner of the river. He approaches with each second, and I'm running out of strength. . .  
  
I exhale, my movements seeming so slow. . .  
  
Facing forward again, I push myself, sweating profusely in the heat. Sheik must be warm, in his wrappings. I glance over at him, taking in the sheen on his face, the speed of his breath. . .  
  
Even he's tiring now.  
  
My movements seem a blur. . .The thudding of my feet on the ground (or is that my heart?) the only noise I can hear. . .The world fades into a massive swirl of red and black and orange, the lights flicking about so prettily as my sight flickers. . .  
  
The ground rushes up at me, and for one second some part of my brain registers that this is not right, but it disappears as soon as it comes.  
  
I'm falling. . .  
  
Warm hands grab my shoulders, yanking me back, and with the sudden movement, my vision clears. Lava bubbles and boils less than three feet from my face, causing me to sweat and feel like I'm frying on the spot. I fall backwards now, my ass hitting the ground hard behind me.  
  
I blink, trying to clear the dizziness from my eyes, when the sound of weapons clashing attracts my attention. I look to my right, and there floats Tyrael, sending his tentacles after Sheik. The warrior dodges with fanatical leaps and twists, making Tyrael look like a slow fool, and after he confuses the angel, he goes in and slashes at him a few times.  
  
Sheik looks over his shoulder, at me, taking a brief pause in his attacks, "RUN!" he shouts in Hylain, and I nod, stumbling to my feet. . .  
  
Whoa, blood rushing to my head. . .  
  
After a moment of swaying, I look again at Sheik. I can't just leave him, can I? No, I can't, but. . .  
  
"RUN!"  
  
Without conscious thought, I leap from my spot, heading back down the stone path. I look over my shoulder, vaguely happy that my head is still clear. Behind me, I watch as Sheik continues to attack, but suddenly Tyrael ignores him, and I can feel the sight of the Archangel lock on to me.  
  
Damnit.  
  
He lifts himself up and above the height of the Sheikah, flying over him as though he were no more than a mere obstacle. With a strong flap of his wings (which seems to speed him up), Tyrael approaches me at breakneck speeds.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
~*~  
  
I watch as the angel Tyrael flies above me, heading towards Link. For the first time since I've seen him, the angel flaps his wings, gaining speed. My eyes narrow as I look back to Link. His running is obviously strained, as was his breath when I managed to catch him.  
  
Now, I've got to try to help him again. . .  
  
This isn't easy on me either, and I'm not the sick one. Neither one of us is strong enough to take on this divine being, but I have no choice but to try and hold him back. Tyrael doesn't seem willing to injure me, and when he did use his sword, he was posing no danger towards me. He only used it to block my repetitive attacks.  
  
And despite my speed, I could not land a hit on him. . .  
  
I run now, sprinting towards the weakened figure down the path. He's stumbling again, but not as bad as before. . .Then, his eyes had been unfocused and misty, as if he were ready to collapse on the spot. I don't blame him, that fever he had was nothing simple.  
  
What I don't understand is where is he getting all of his strength now from?  
  
Wherever it is, it could do to be a bit stronger. I can see Link breathing from here, and he does not look like there's much left. . .And Tyrael is gaining on him. He doesn't have much time, and we're so close to the cliff. . .There's a crack in it that looks like it might be a small cave, and we're almost there. . .So close. . .There's got to be something I can do. . .  
  
But what? I'm too slow. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I stumble again, but this Time I fall. Yet, my knees do not hit the ground with the solid crack I was expecting. Instead, I am hoisted up into the air by my ankles. I am turned about, coming face to face with Tyrael in all his shining glory. I cross my arms as I hang upside down, trying to ignore my heavy breaths and the sweat that is tickling my face as it runs down in streams.  
  
I swear, if Tyrael could smile.  
  
I arch an eyebrow at him, trying to give him some kind of glare, but telling by the tone of his voice it provides nothing more than amusement for him, |Hero, you are indeed a Champion, one that all mortal men should remember, but as much as I wish otherwise, there is no choice. I must-| His righteous words are cut off by his own cry of pain, and before I can see what happened, I am dropped unceremoniously on to the ground, like a limp toy.  
  
Again there are warm hands on my shoulders, coaxing me into a standing position, despite my legs' protests. I stand, wearily, the entire run taking its toll. Beside me stands Sheik, and he stares at me through his blood red eyes, worriedly.  
  
Sheikah can actually worry. . .?  
  
"Come on," he says, his Hylain rich in accent, unlike many of the townspeople in my age, "lets go." He turns me about and gives me a light push. I watch him for a second as he runs ahead of me, and with a tired sigh, I follow along behind him.  
  
Motions again blur as my mind begins to go numb, blocking my senses from the real world. I shake off the feeling, annoyed with it. I can't fail now. . .Not after how much Sheik has helped me in the last little while.  
  
How long have we been running? It feels like ages. . .  
  
Sheik tarries up ahead, letting me catch up and keep beside him. I risk a quick glance over my shoulder. There, behind us, Tyrael floats, one wingtip glowing brighter than all the rest, with little white tendrils appearing around it.  
  
"What. . .did you do?" I ask Sheik through my heavy breaths. He bows his head and for one brief second he smiles.  
  
"Threw some small daggers at him," he pushes aside the hanging flap of his cowl, revealing the line of small throwing daggers - hardly any larger than nails - in a row behind his belt. I smile lightly at the sight. . .It appears that while we cannot kill Tyrael (and I don't think I could really do it, even if I had the chance), we can at least buy ourselves some Time. . .  
  
"Thanks. . .Sheik," I huff, still trying to get oxygen to my lungs. He nods, raising his head, and increases the pace slightly. Through the slowly returning dizziness (the edges of my vision are heavily blurred), I somehow manage to keep up with him. Now, the pain in my legs is gone, replaced instead by a warm numbness.  
  
Or is that just the heat of the lava?  
  
I don't know, and truthfully, I don't care. We're here, we're both fine (well, we're both alive), and we're three fourths of the way, at least. No, closer. Much closer, I think. . . It's not that much farther either way, I can see the crack more clearly now. . .Or, at least I can with every second step. . .  
  
My head is absolutely swimming. . .  
  
In my ears, I can hear my heart pound, and in-between my temples I can feel my brain retort with its own violent waves. I raise a hand and cradle my head in it, keeping the pressure hard, as if that will help. Personally, I wish that it will, but I don't quite have the Time to try useless remedies. . .  
  
A large shadow swoops over me, blanketing me in darkness, and both I and Sheik look up. There, Tyrael soars, passing us quickly, as though he were not even interested in us. . .  
  
What does he have planned?  
  
He pulls away, and once he's a good forty feet ahead of us (and right infront of the crack), he turns back around, lowering himself. I wonder what he's going to try, when it becomes so painfully clear. He's got his wings in a shield shape, blocking our passage through. I frown.  
  
What the Hell am I supposed to do?  
  
Sheik sprints ahead suddenly, faster than I've seen him run before, approaching Tyrael like a madman. Fear crosses my face for one second, and then he leaps. . .  
  
Bounding right over the head of the Archangel Tyrael. . .  
  
The tentacles follow him up, reaching, grasping, struggling to grab him in any way, to stop him, but it's no use. He's up and above Tyrael's head, and I'm right behind.  
  
Or under. With some of my last remaining strength, I use the distraction to my advantage. I duck and roll, passing right underneath the occupied form, up the slightly rough incline that leads to the cave. I don't stop until I hit the wall behind hard, and before I know what's happened, Sheik's pulling me into the crack, one of his hands on my wrist.  
  
The inside of this crack is a tight winding cave, through which even Sheik is having a hard Time trying to scrabble through. We're both getting scratched by the harsh rocks, scraped and bruised. . .  
  
My foot is yanked out from underneath me, and I start to drop to the ground, being pulled back. But my hands find purchase in the sharp walls of the rocks, holding on for my life. It seems that Tyrael's got my leg, dragging me out. . .  
  
A blur ducks down in front of me, and there's another cry of pain. . .Think it's Tyrael's, hard to tell. I'm again on my feet, as Sheik hauls me to my feet, pushing me forward from behind. . .I can't go too fast. . .I can't see where I'm going. . .It's too dark in here. . .and too tight. My shoulders and arms and legs are being scrapped mercilessly, rubbing up hard against the warm sharp rocks. . .  
  
I'm not sure when the cave widens, but almost as soon as it does, I fall to the ground, my legs feeling like jelly. This Time, Sheik doesn't bother to help me up. . .Where is he, anyway? Or is it just that dark in here?  
  
I lay back, curling up into a ball on my side. I'm shivering now, shaking from the force of my labored breaths, from the ache that seems to crack open my skull with each pound, Timed perfectly with my heart.  
  
A hand behind my neck, and I'm lifted off the rocky ground slightly. There's the offering of cool water to my fevered lips, cold and yet warm. . .I don't care. I drink it, vaguely aware that I shouldn't drink too much, as I lost most of my supplies, and so I must be drinking from Sheik's. . .I can't help myself though. After choking on the first swig, I manage to swallow two others before my stomach threatens to upheave.  
  
I'm lowered again, and with eyes as hot as marbles, I stare out for some Time into the blackness, unsure of any sound or sight. When darkness comes to me, I am not sure, for it is no different than being awake. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N:I know, Sheik was a major 'hero', if you will, in this chapter, but Link wasn't in good condition, so. . .well, you know. 


	34. Chapter XXXIII Mind of a Sheikah

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXIII - Mind of a Sheikah  
  
~*~  
  
In the vague, dim light of the cave, I stood, staring down on Link's body. His fits of shivering and convulsing had long passed, but his fever was not abating. Washing a cold cloth over his brow, I sat there, beside him, wondering if there was anything I could do to make it better.  
  
A slight moan emits from his mouth, and in his unconscious state he vainly tries to roll over. I don't let him, though. I'd prefer it if he didn't move.  
  
He fights against my firm grasp for one moment, but his weakness prevails and he again quiets down, his breath loud and harsh in the silence of this cave.  
  
Checking the cloth to make sure that it is still cool, before I take a better look around me. It's the exact same as it was the last time I looked, dark and hot and rocky, dimly lit by the glow from the lava outside.  
  
I glance towards the entrance, images of our near escape flashing through my mind. Tyrael's wings flashing in the heat of the light as he flew at us, my frantic running and constant urging to keep the semi conscious Link running.  
  
I don't know if he could even hear me. . .  
  
Once we had reached the crack in that high fortress wall, he finally begun giving up. Tyrael had grabbed him, and it was only by a quick movement, I was able to save him. Tyrael's wings do not hold up well against my blade, as though they were made of nothing thicker than paper.  
  
I sliced a few of his wing tips, and before we even had the time to start running, they were already reforming. I didn't care. I pushed Link forward, urging him to move. I was so worried that Tyrael would pick me up and throw me aside, having an easy chance to get at an injured Link.  
  
However, it never did happen. . .  
  
Tyrael's wings tried constantly to get past me, at Link, but they seemed reluctant to touch me, never mind grab me and throw me aside.  
  
Maybe he couldn't, for some reason. . .?  
  
I know that the Archangel isn't stupid. I may have only understood a few words of what Link and Tyrael discussed, but I could hear knowledge in his voice, a kind of gentle and yet powerful diplomacy, commanding. He knew what he was talking about (whatever it was), and was sure of himself and what he was saying.   
  
So why was he so adamant on avoiding me?  
  
I frown lightly, my hand moving to check the cloth again.  
  
As soon as Link wakes up, I'm going to ask him a thing or two.  
  
If he ever wakes up. . .  
  
I sit back, staring at the unmoving form of my companion, my face just as still. I watch him breath, the only true sign of life aside from the sheen that covers his forehead. Did Tyrael somehow do this? Did he cause this sickness to befall Link? Or is it just an unlucky coincidence?   
  
A few hours ago I took a brief break from watching over Link, and I went to investigate the further areas of the cave. There was no end in sight, and I dared not to go any further. Obviously, this cave goes on for a ways in either directions, stretching far. . .It would be easiest just to turn around and go back out the way we came in, but then again, who can say that Tyrael isn't waiting out there? He could be there, hoping for us to become discouraged with the longer path.  
  
Or, he could be waiting at the other side. . .  
  
I shake my head. This is pointless. Right now, there are far more important things, like Link's health.  
  
I reach for my pack which lays nearby, grabbing a handful of supplies and my canteen. I searched through my companion's bag earlier, and found only a few useful things. Bandages, a few rations and a canteen of water. Not much, but it should help for now. There, I also found something both handy and useless at the same time.  
  
A box of sugar cubes was in Link's pack, a sight I had never seen before. At first, I was wary of the contents, but I briefly tasted one, and was shocked to find what it was made of. Sugar, and lots of it.  
  
Now, I would normally consider that much sugar to be a waste of space and extra weight, but it does have its uses. When I was young and felt sick, my current guardian would sometimes give me a little sugar, to 'help me feel better'. I'm not sure if it worked, but I think that trying it is better than nothing. Link's not getting any sicker, so it can't be hurting him.  
  
I take a ration into my hand, and stare at it for a good minute. Dried meat. Good thing that I like it, else I'd be sick of it by now. I lower my cowl and raise the ration, biting it hard and ripping a chunk from it. It's a bit hard to chew, but delicious nonetheless. Swallowing the tough meat, I take yet another bite, relishing what seasonings they were able to add to this meat.  
  
All too soon, the ration is gone, and now I reach for the canteen. The cap is hard to screw off, it gets stuck and I really have to wrench the thing to move it at all. It gives at last with a pop noise, and the slush of water within.  
  
I take a quick sip from it, mainly to wash down the meat I have just finished, and then I turn to my companion. He's looking the same as before, slick with sweat from feverish dreams. I put one hand behind his head, raise his neck, and let him drink. At first, of course, he reacts harshly to the fluid, sputtering and coughing as it drips down his throat, but soon enough, he calms, drinking well.  
  
I wish to give him more, but the water must be conserved. After lowering his body gently to the ground, I recap the canteen, screwing the thing on as tight as I can. Better to have none leak out, and yet annoyingly hard to open.  
  
Better than dying of thirst, that's for sure.  
  
Releasing a sigh, I push the bangs away from the front of my face before pulling my cowl back up. Bringing it up past the tip of my nose, I make sure that it will stay high enough that my face remains concealed. It may not seem like a matter of any real consequence if say, a Hylain were to show their face in public, but it is a religious rule for us Sheikah.  
  
In my culture's beliefs, our kind was long ago betrayed by the Hylains, causing a massive war and a near extinction of the Sheikah. It was a war of religious beliefs. Apparently, both the Sheikah and the Hylains believed in similar higher powers, but then something happened. . .The Hylains changed their beliefs, and cast down the Sheikah for their different views. The war was nearly apocalyptic for my race, forcing our races to scatter and hide from our homelands.  
  
We were new in these places, and were not well accepted, but we had learned our lesson. Never place your heart in anyone's hand. never reveal all that is on your mind. Cold, silent, resilient. Enigmatic. Powerful, our race was from then on trained as warriors in secret. Few of our race lived outside our hidden villages, and even those who lived in our secretive safety all wore cowls and bandages.  
  
It made us stand out, but it made us hard to tell apart.  
  
Now, I do not wear mine for the usual reasons. I am not wearing it because I believe that my face had to be hidden from the 'traitors'. No, I am not at all religious. Screw the Goddesses for all I care. While I try not to swear, or cuss, I was truly not surprised by Link's swearing as we fell off the cliff. Nor was I surprised when he started looking for his bag. Sure, I wasn't the most impressed by it, I am not a religious, holier-than-thou person.  
  
I wear this cowl and my bandages as a way of hiding my face. I don't know. . .Maybe it's just because that I feel. . .I don't know, safer with this on. . .That, and I am proud to be a Sheikah. After all, we have trained so hard for so long, we have honed all our skills over the generations, how could I not be proud?  
  
A badge of honor. . .? Slightly ironic, since it was my own people who disowned me. I was forced into the life of thieving (which isn't nearly as bad as the people make it out to be) at the age of twelve, and here I am, older (I think I might be twenty two. . .Maybe twenty three) and smarter and stronger than ever before.  
  
Again I look at Link. A quick check tells me that nothing has changed, except now I have to re-dampen the cloth. I replace it, thinking about what could be causing his illness. I checked his wounds earlier, and there was no sign of infection, in fact, all were tended to very well.  
  
What could be causing it. . .?  
  
I stare at him, taking in his features. A pale face (though in this light it seems a bit more tanned), with light blonde hair, and his ever so slightly slanted eyes. His clothes - dirty and somewhat torn - are of a completely foreign design, and not all that practical. They are baggy, which would make it hard for him to sneak around. His clothes would get caught at shredded and ruined. . .  
  
Again I look at his face. Elven ears, slanted eyes. . .blonde hair.  
  
Slanted eyes. . .  
  
No matter how much I try to ignore it, he looks like he's Sheikah. Or, at least half.  
  
Yet he says that he once knew a Sheikah. . .  
  
Now, I'm rather sure that he's not daft enough to say once knew a Sheikah if one was his mother, or his father. . .  
  
But if he is indeed a Sheikah, then he would have had some training, though, right? I mean, no Sheikah anywhere would let a single child in the village go without training. And obviously, he hasn't gone through any of the special arts. He can't jump all that high, he's not very fast. . .Granted, he's very strong. . .And he knows the ways of magic.  
  
He's got potential. . .  
  
Is that why I helped him escape from that fortress? If I had left him there, he would have been caught by Tyrael, if he was right about that being the Archangel who was approaching. Anyone else, I would have left them behind, unless I had a good reason to keep them around. . .By why him? Potential?  
  
Or because he's another Sheikah?  
  
His lack of training can only be explained by one of two things; first, he could be completely daft and incapable of anything intelligent, or he's an orphan who was not raised with any of our kind.  
  
An orphan. . .?  
  
Looking at him, I guess it's possible, though most orphans end up thieves. . .And yet he at first protested my attempts at theft. . .But, we ended up leaving together, me with my bag of stolen goods.  
  
Either he's very forgetful, or he gave up on the subject. . .  
  
Link tosses in his sleep, dreams racing under his eyelids. . .He's restless, and yet too sick still. . .I hold him down, gently, trying to keep him still. He fights me again, just like earlier, but he's far too weak. . .He settles down, and I watch him again dream, lost in a world of false realities. . .  
  
I wipe off the sweat from his brow with the cloth, before replacing it. There's not much I can do for him, here, but I'm doing the best I can. . .  
  
Blonde hair. . .A common trait for the Sheikah is to have light colored hair, and darker skin. . .Yet he has pale skin. . .Blue eyes are also uncommon. . .But we have slanted eyes. . .Hylains rarely have blonde hair, instead having darker colors, like black and brown. . .  
  
Probably a mix then. . .the result of an illegitimate relationship? Possibly. . .More likely than a Hylain having a long lasting relationship with a Sheikah. . .A one night stand? Maybe, or something worse. . .A rape, possible, I suppose. Then, of course, there's the failed relationship between two lovers which could not stand up to the intolerant attitudes of those around them. . .  
  
That last one, though, is just too sappy to be real. . .  
  
A half breed. . .He does look like it. . .  
  
But, why would Tyrael be after a half breed?  
  
. . .Link never told me why Tyrael was after him. . .  
  
What reason would an Archangel want Link?   
  
Well, as soon as my companion wakes up, I might just be able to get a few answers, but for now, all I can do is try to keep him alive.   
  
~*~  
  
It is now that I perhaps loathe my choice of hiding the most. For now, I have no spies, no minions, no army. I cannot see what goes on around me, what takes place in my land. Things are a blur to me now, but there is nothing else I can do. If I were to even try, I could end up revealing myself to the ever watchful eyes that surround me, looking for me.  
  
They shall not have me.  
  
Tyrael is on the move again. . .Meaning that Hylain boy is again in Hell. . .He is close, so very close. . .He will soon be in my grasp, and I will be able to finish what Diablo couldn't. . .My brother didn't even know what he had unleashed that day. . .It had been a last ditch effort, but now his plan shall finally come unto its fruitation. . .  
  
That blasted Hylain. . .The bane of the Prime Evils, our destruction. . .He shall be changed. . .Twisted. . .  
  
Into our savior. . .  
  
Tyrael shall chase him into my hands, dooming that Elf. . .There will be no escape, and now, the time comes so close.  
  
{Hurry, boy,} I hiss into the empty room, laughter bubbling in my half mental, half physical voice. I am all too aware that I am alone, but it does not matter. It does not matter now, for I am looking towards the future. I raise my hands in a grand show, elation flowing through me, {Come and get me! Hurry! Hurry and face the doom set for you by your accursed Gods themselves! Feel the agony you are destined to endure!}  
  
I lower my hands once more, a smirk twisting its way on to my once human face.  
  
{Come, and serve me, insolent child. . .}  
  
~*~  
  
I stretch out, regaining the feeling I lost in my arms during my sleep. Sliding my cowl back up into place, I look down at Link quickly, who is resting beside me.  
  
Eyes still closed and his form still sweat soaked, he is still alive. I feel his forehead, relieved when I notice the fever has abated severely. He is still sick, but it is not nearly as life threatening as before. . .  
  
I sit back with a sigh, wiping my own sweat of my brow.  
  
It seems that in this eternally burning Hell pit, there is absolutely no way to keep cool. It is understandable, seeing as we are surrounded by lava and flames and such, but that doesn't mean I have to enjoy it.  
  
I move to get the cloth off of Link's forehead, noticing with a light smirk that it has fallen down to cover his eyes. I grab the now bone dry material and gently remove it from the Elf's face, stopping short at the sight I see.  
  
Link's eyes are open, staring out into nothingness.  
  
After a moment's shock (which I think I hid rather well), I look back at him, waiting for him to focus his eyes. He doesn't move, and I frown lightly, still waiting for him to break his unnerving gaze. His eyes stare back, soulless, as if dead. Cold blue eyes, haunted by nightmares and reality, hazed and blank.  
  
My frown deepens, and I wave my hand before his face. Nothing. I try again, same result. I sigh, putting my hands on my hips and thinking. There has to be something I can do.  
  
I reach forward and give him a light slap to the cheek, as I did when I first found him in the rubble of the landslide. He groans and twitches tentatively away from me, but his eyes do not change. He does not wake up. I grab his chin and angle his face back towards me, and I do it again, harder.  
  
This time there's a light tinkling as he twitches away. . .  
  
I look down is surprise, staring at the object around his neck. A small blue crystal, surrounded by a few loops of wiring, suspended by a chain which hangs out from the neck hole of his shirt. The gem hangs there, glowing. . .It's radiant shimmering ebbs and flows like the waves of the oceans, but the color is much different. . .More like. . .I don't know. . .  
  
Deeper, darker.  
  
Against my own will, my hand reaches down, trying to grasp that tiny jewel. . .hold it in my hands, claim it as my own. . .  
  
No, that's not true, I just want to touch it. . .  
  
My fingers grasp the cold gem, and I raise it slightly, up to my face. Multitudes of blues ripple through the stone, capped with bright white tips that crash and rise. . .An endless cycle. . .My fingers move to brush against it's pristine surface, as if unbelieving, but at my touch the gem heats up immediately, and I drop the thing in surprise at the sudden temperature change.  
  
It falls, landing back down into Link's shirt, disappearing out of sight. Link groans again, possibly from the movement, and I watch as his eyes lose the mist and start roving about the room aimlessly, looking for something. They are the same color, of course - a haunted blue, cold and icy - but now the haze is gone, and intelligence has returned. He blinks, slowly, looking deep in thought.  
  
"Link," I ask, and his eyes snap towards me, but a bit over my head, "How are you feeling?"  
  
". . .I. .I can't see. . ." he mutters, raising his hand to cover his eyes, ". . .why can't I see. . .?" There's a subdued note of panic in his voice, as if he is truly scared that his sight is gone, and yet he seems too exhausted to care. I smile tightly under my cowl.  
  
"Do not worry. It's just dark in here. How are you feeling?" I ask again, putting one hand to his forehead. The fever is lower than ever, but still I am concerned. As I reach out my hand, he shakily raises one of his, searching for mine. I get the clear impulse to move my arm before he finds it, but I shake aside that stupid train of thought, lowering my arm slightly so that he can get a hold of it.  
  
He grabs it with as much enthusiasm as he can muster, squeezing it as if to make sure I'm there. Staring blindly, he feels up my arm, to my head and shoulders. At the touch of my cowl, he lets got for one second, before again grabbing me, and continuing up. His hand seems somewhat interested with my cowl, but as it climbs higher, he lets it fall behind, not bothering to even try to remove it.  
  
His hands come to my hair, which after a brief, awkward touch, he skips by. He comes to the bandages wrapped around the top of my head, and feels them, as an actual blind person would. His eyes go wide, but again narrow down to a normal size. I wonder, did he forget about me being here, with him? He did say that he used to know someone who dressed like me. . .Did he think. . .?  
  
"Shiek?" he asks quietly, his voice hardly more than a whisper. I nod, despite the fact that he can't see it.  
  
"Yes, it's me. How are you feeling?"  
  
". . .okay, I guess. . .been better, but-" he takes in a bit of a shuddering breath, "-I'm not that bad. . .bit tired though. . ."  
  
"It's good to have you awake," I mutter, "I'll get you something to drink." I move over to the pack, quietly, though after a moment's hesitation, I make some noise as I move, letting Link know where I am. He'll probably feel more comfortable, if he can hear me.  
  
As I reach for the pack, I can hear him sigh, and it is as if the sound itself is some kind of switch, causing all the stress that has lain on my shoulders for the last while (hours? Days?) to disappear like mist in the air. I grab the canteen from inside and turn about, looking down upon him. He seems to have given up on seeing anything, and now just stares out into the blackness, one arm resting across his chest, the other laying limp by his side.  
  
I move towards him, and he looks towards me, alerted by the minute amounts of sound I have made. His eyes search rapidly for me, but it is too dark, and so instead, I gently lay a hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat of his fever. His body relaxes, and I quickly put the canteen to his lips, keeping the angle slight so that it doesn't just dump on him.  
  
He drinks greedily, vainly trying to keep himself in check. After a good two or three gulps he finally slows down, realization in his eyes. With a frown on my face, I let him stop drinking, though I instantly have second thoughts about it.  
  
Laying back down, he blinks, his eyes struggling to open again. Sleep is swiftly overtaking him, its obvious, but he tries fighting it so hard.  
  
"Link," I ask, "Why are you sick?"  
  
He looks thoughtfully in my direction for a brief minute, blinking, "I. . .I don't know. . ." His face clenches into a frown, "I. . .can't remember. There was something. . ." His frown deepens, and he stares deeper into the darkness before him. I arch an eyebrow in my curiosity.  
  
"You don't remember what made you sick?"  
  
His eyes clear for a second, "Well. . .It's a bit weird. . ."  
  
"Go ahead." I cross my arms, preparing myself for the wildest of all explanations. Not that it would really surprise me though. Only recently, I have arrived in Hell to walk along rivers of fire and have had Archangels swoop out of the air to attack my comrade who is half Sheikah, and yet doesn't seem to realize it.  
  
"I. . .I don't have the Sight," he says, and despite my confusion I nod in agreeance with him (even though I know he can't see it). His eyes aren't red, not at all, so he doesn't have the Sight. It's a clear sign. "And I know you do," he mumbles, and again I agree, silently cursing his fever. He'd be able to talk faster and get rid of this horrid suspense, if he was well. "But. . .sometimes. . .sometimes I see things. . .Like the Sight, but. . .," he sighs in frustration, "I don't know. I do know, however, that I saw something, and then I went out."  
  
"And you don't remember what you saw?" I ask, and he shakes his head, wincing and raising a hand to his forehead afterwards.  
  
"No. . ." he pulls in a harsh breath, "but whenever I see something, it drains me badly. Whatever I saw this Time is what gave me my fever. . .but I don't know what I saw. . ." He lays his head back down, exhaustion slowly creeping back into his eyes.  
  
The Sight. . .He can't have the Sight. . .his eyes aren't even the slightest bit red. . .  
  
Eyelids fluttering, he sighs, resting his body. Muscles relax, and I watch as dreams begin to play their way behind closed eyes.  
  
"You can't have the Sight," I mutter, barely aware that I'm talking out loud, "The Sight doesn't cause pain. . .Not even the strongest of visions. . ."  
  
No, I know Link doesn't have the Sight, its something far worse. . .but I don't know what. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I lay my head down on to the hard rocky ground, wincing at the rough texture that bites into the back of my neck. But no matter what I feel, exhaustion overtakes me all too soon, and I fall into the wicked paths of deranged dreams. . .  
  
There is nothing but blackness around me now. . .Pitch, utter blackness that threatens to swallow and devour me whole, to rip me from my fragile existence here. . .To kill me. . .  
  
I pay it no attention, long used to the dark. I may not love it, but I am used to it. Secret fears still run past my eyes whenever I set foot into a dark cave, or into a long forgotten dungeon, but I pay it no heed.  
  
I am used to the dark, but I do not love it. . .  
  
Turning around in this endless abyss, I see nothing. . .I turn to my left. . .Nothing. . .My right, behind me, nothing. . .  
  
Then, on the strangest of whims, I whip around my front.  
  
Malon.  
  
Malon stands before me, a devious smile on her lips, a malevolent gleam in her eyes. She stands there, only a foot away from my face, hands behind her back, leaning slightly forward. She is in her usual attire, dressed in her farm dress - or - at least what I remember of her old farm dress. There are certain areas that when I look at them, they fuzz out. . .proving - to me at least - that I don't remember how she looked. . .  
  
"Malon. . ." I mutter, more than slightly shocked, though not surprised. She smiles back, letting her hands fall to her sides.  
  
"Link," she replies, but her voice is not how it usually is. . .  
  
Soft, sweet, still caring. Not the cold, dead shadow of a long deceased woman that I created to calm my frayed nerves and stave off the approaching insanity in the deep cold nights locked within dungeons and caves and darkness. . .  
  
"Malon. . .?" I whisper, staring at her in curiosity. . .Her smile intensifies, and she inches closer. I almost reach out for her, my mind numb it's sleepy haze. Fingers extended, I almost touch her face, but I jerk back at the last moment.   
  
I shouldn't be acting like this. . .Like she's real. . .  
  
"Am I?" she asks, and now she's reaching out, her hand cupping my cheek lovingly, "Oh, poor Link. . .Poor Link!" She laughs, the sound cold and cruel, yet hot with insanity. I find myself wishing that I could pull away, but I can't move, "So naive. . .It's pathetic how little you understand. . .How little you can conceive of what's going on around you. . ."  
  
I want to move so bad. . .  
  
She laughs again, tilting her head back and causing her flaming hair to cascade down behind her like a waterfall of fire. Her blue eyes close in glee, and her laughter rings through the air like a thousand dark chimes. . .  
  
. . .And yet I'm kind of. . .Enjoying this?  
  
She looks at me again, that smile off her face, "You were never meant to be the Hero, you know that? You're just too pathetic. . .To sad, to. . .weak." She turns away from me, looking deeply into that blackness behind her, as if there was something interesting in that direction.  
  
I shrug, "You always speak in riddles and insults, Malon. Besides, when did you get such higher knowledge? I think only the Goddesses would know the truth to what you just said."  
  
"The Goddesses know nothing!" She whirls around to face me, anger running deep through her eyes, "You of all people should know that!" She crosses her arms before her, and stares darkly down her nose at me, "They know nothing. . .neither do you. . ."  
  
"Okay Malon," I mutter, shaking my head, "I think you've finally gone off the deep end and-"  
  
"But I thought that I was just a product of your subconscious designed to keep you from going completely insane but backfiring so that you do go nuts and kill everyone around you. How could I go insane?" She replies, fluttering her eyes innocently. I sigh.  
  
"Don't do that! Its my job to turn your words against you!" I rub the bridge of my nose, "I can't believe this. . .I get sick, and I get stuck with dreams of my psychotic dead girlfriend-"   
  
"Fine then," she crosses her arms again, and begins to fade, "You want something more conventional? Watch out behind you. . ." Now completely gone, my eyes widen as I spin about, looking for the danger she warned me of.  
  
Nothing. . .Nothing but pitch cold blackness. . .Dark and devouring. . .  
  
Suddenly, there's an ache in my chest, and by some weird, unknown instinct, I forcing myself to move to the side, just as a sword moves for where I stood moments ago. It is black as the night itself, but when it moves I can make out things. . .I don't know why, but it becomes slightly visible when it is swung at me. . .  
  
I dodge again to the left, barely missing another blow. I still can't see my attacker, but I know whatever it is. . .Its not that big. It can't be, not at the height its holding the sword at. It can't be that much bigger than me. . .probably close to the same height.  
  
I reach for my own sword, but though the sheath is there, it is empty. My hand grasps the cold air over my shoulder, searching for the for the hilt. Immediately, I search the ground nearby (is there even any ground? I'm walking on nothing), and there, far to my left, it lays. I look back up to see my unseen attacker swipe at me horizontally, and I have but one chance.  
  
I dive, under the blade and towards my sword. My hand grasps the hilt as I roll over it, and I am again on my feet, spinning about to block the oncoming attack. Holding my blade up horizontally, my opponents weapon crashes into it from an upward angle. We struggle against each other for a minute, and then finally, I gain the upper hand, pushing back against its blade.  
  
Gaining a bit of distance, I hop back a couple of steps, hoping to widen the distance. That way, if it attacks again, I'll have more Time to spot my opponent. . .Damn it, I wish I could see.  
  
Almost as if in response to my wish, the world lights up - too brightly. The sudden change of light blinds me, and I grab at my eyes, trying to block out the blinding sight. It is over as soon as it came, but the after shocks don't leave me immediately, and as I stand there, clawing at my eyes as if that will clear my vision, a heavy foot hits into my side.  
  
I am thrown by the powerful kick the ribs, and I go skidding across the ground, at least seven feet from my original position (though it's hard to be sure in this dead dream). My sword lands beside me with a loud clatter, shining in the non-existent light. I reach for it, trying to find the hilt and still keep an eye out for my attacker.  
  
There's a noise I can't place, and suddenly my attacker is sitting on top of my form, squatting over my stomach. I can just make out the blade and an eye, glinting in that lack of light, though no detail is revealed to my eyes. There's a laugh like the cry of a thousand demons, and the sword is pulled back. . .  
  
I tighten my grip on the sword and pull up to block the assault, our weapons clashing. The metallic noise rings throughout my dream like a bad omen, and at the same Time, we both pull back, preparing for another swing.  
  
However, I have other plans in mind. . .  
  
My opponent begins to slash at me, my death in mind, but before the deadly blade can reach me (it's so damn hard to see. . .) I press my feet up against the chest of my attacker, kicking it off of me.  
  
It doesn't go flying far, instead hitting into the floor less than two feet from where I lay, but I use the chance to get up. Blade still in hand, I search for where my opponent fell, hoping to finish it off.  
  
I don't get the chance.  
  
Hands - humanlike hands - grab at my legs, and a body wraps around my feet, pulling me down. I struggle, and instead of landing beside my opponent, like they planned, I instead land on top of it.  
  
My breath rushes out of my lungs with an 'oof'! and immediately my enemy is pushing me up and off of them. The range is too short to use its sword in, so it must get some distance. I slip off of it, to the ground, and hop to my feet, gingerly rubbing my stomach.  
  
Wow. . .The pain feels so real. . .  
  
Better not die then. . .  
  
I gulp audibly, glad to find my sword is still in my hands. . .Almost like it's stuck there with glue. . .or something. . .I look up, searching for my enemy. . .but their not there. . .  
  
I hear a footstep behind me, and so I whip around, bringing my sword up into a defensive position, and just in Time there's a clang as my weapon blocks my opponent's. It jerks back, and tries again, this Time I catch the glean just enough to see the next attack perfectly.  
  
It's trying to impale me with a thrust maneuver. . .  
  
I slash sideways, keeping the blade tip at an angle with the ground, and by doing so, manage to deflect the nearly unblockable attack. . .Man, it's Times like these I wish for my shield. . .  
  
They let their swing be swept up with mine, and then nearly instantly, they strike again slashing back once more. This Time, it is a simple cross slash, and I block the diagonal hit with a horizontal parry. They push down, I push up to counter balance it. . .We struggle, me pushing up, it pushing down. . .My muscles straining, I can feel my energy draining. . .  
  
Such a realistic dream. . .I can even feel the sweat that covers me. . .  
  
I tense, and push up harder, knocking it backwards, and then I do something I would never expected myself to do.  
  
I spin around and give it a good kick to its chest.  
  
It flies backwards out of my immediate reach and I hear a thud, and so I suppose that its safe to assume my attack was pushed back hard enough that he/she/it fell to the ground. I don't hear the scrambling of feet, trying to stand up, and so I walk over there.  
  
Though I can't see, I did hear where the thud came from, and I can only hope my aim is on and that I'm not making a fool of myself. I raise my sword, tip aimed at the ground, and with one last doubt I plunge the weapon downwards, hoping to hit something - anything.  
  
A loud piercing cry echoes in the darkness, which changes to sudden daylight. . .Well, no, not really.  
  
My opponent finally becomes visible, while the rest of the world around me stays black.  
  
I (well, the other me) lay there, on the ground, dressed in black. . .A long cloak. . .My eyes open and staring up, unseeing into the darkness above, but their red, not blue. My sword is impaled through this other version of me. . .through the chest, through the heart. . .The blood pools around me. . .Soon not only is this other me laying in a lake of crimson, but I too stand in it, the blood soaking the bottom of my boots.  
  
The other me regains his consciousness once more, looking up at me, seemingly unaware of his deadly wound and whispers, "To-told you. . ." Then his head falls to the ground behind him, and death truly seeps into his eyes. . .And he disappears in a wisp of black mist, curling, embracing. . .And when it is gone, so is he.  
  
What did he mean. . .? Told me what?  
  
~*~  
  
The haze slowly lifts off my body, and I come awake. I know I am, even with my eyes still closed, I know that I am awake. I shrug off the heavy remains of sleep off my stiff body, stretching and opening my eyes with a yawn.  
  
I jerk back, though, as Sheik stands right there, right above me, his red eyes staring down into my soul. . .He blinks as I wince, and looses some of that seriousness in his eyes. . .If I didn't know Sheikah any better, I'd say that he could be smiling behind that strange cowl of his. . .  
  
"Good, you've finally adjusted," he states the obvious, and my mind temporally drifts back to my dream, "And you're up. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Much better," I say, stretching again, and once Sheik moves to the side, I sit up. My back is stiff and sore, but that's not much of a surprise. I look down at where I was laying, and I see that all I had to cushion myself from the ground was a thin blanket.  
  
"Are you well enough to travel?" He asks, and I nod, "I don't much care for this place. . .I think the sooner we move, the better."  
  
At his words, I sit back, and concentrate. We're in Hell, in a cave (an easily accessible cave), but there's nothing here. . .If Sheik had been in any fights, there'd be rotting corpses laying all about. . .Hmm. . .  
  
"Sheik," I ask, and he turns his attention away from the hall leading back from where we came (I think, for that's where the light is coming from), "How long. . .?"  
  
"How long? About. . .I don't know. Still haven't figured out a way of telling time here. . .I've slept only once, so something like a day, or so." I nod, glad to hear that it hasn't been horribly long. We must still have some supplies left. "Come, we should be going. Do you need help?"  
  
He helps me to my feet, and I try out my legs. They're not as stiff as my back was, and I shake my head, "No, I'm good. . .So, uh, which way?"  
  
Sheik points down a tunnel, opposite to the one he was looking at earlier, "That way."  
  
I nod. . .This is definitely going to be dangerous, if not interesting. I'm back in Hell, and we're on our way. . .  
  
"Sheik," I ask as we walk, me closer to the wall so during those odd little Times I can use its rocky face for support, "Where are you going to go?"  
  
His eyes widen slightly at that, "Well. . .I don't know. Where are you going? You know your way better than I."  
  
"I'm going somewhere. . .It's not a good place to go, though you are a better fighter than me."  
  
"Not necessarily better," he mumbles, all expression again gone from his face, "More experienced. Trained." It's amazing how well I've adapted to reading what little emotions Sheik has. It could be leftover from those few Times I met up with Zelda when she was in her Sheikah guise. . .  
  
"I'm not sure you should come with me though. . .There's a good chance that I won't be coming back. . ." I state, looking down at the ground. I hear him sigh.  
  
"How am I supposed to find my way through the very bowels of Hell itself? I need a guide, and you're the closest thing I've got right now. If you can help me find my way out, fine. If you can't, then I might as well die, too. I won't be able to go on my own. . .I'd get lost and die."  
  
"No, you'd be surprised. . .How do you think I learned about all the hot spots in Hell?"  
  
~*~ 


	35. Chapter XXXIIII Hellplague

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXIV - Hellplague  
  
~*~  
  
"Playing with fire. . .It's a dangerous game. . ."  
  
- Stratovarius, Playing with Fire  
  
~*~  
  
"Try not to fall asleep, okay?" A voice sounds from in front of me - [Sheik's] - and I open my eyes a crack, my head still resting on my own shoulder, "I don't want to stay here too long." I stare at him through the haze of my sight, wanting to argue on how tired I am, but I don't even open my mouth. If Sheik wants to move, then so be it. I'm not that weak anymore, and it would be. . .selfish for me argue such a point. . .  
  
Besides, I don't really like it here. . .  
  
It's been only a few hours. . .We've come a ways, a few miles in the very least, but it's a bit hard to travel like this. I'm not at top form yet, the ground is rough and rocky, and let's not forget just how damn dark it is in here. Even Sheik has trouble keeping his feet at Times, and he's the one who disappears into the bloody shadows just like he never existed.  
  
I simply slip and fall and tumble at almost every chance I get, bruising and scraping my poor limbs.  
  
And it's freaken hot in here too! Me, with my nice sweater, we just love the heat, don't we? Oh, yes. I love baking and frying in my own skin-  
  
"I knew you were insane," Malon hisses into my ear. I close my eyes again and sigh.  
  
"Go 'way, Mal," I slur lightly, shuffling a bit where is sit. Rocks are definitely not comfortable on the back, as my oh so sore muscles can attest to.  
  
"Did you say something?" Sheik's voice sounds, sounding strangely concerned, and I shake my head.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You lie," her breath again mutters, borne on the lightest of winds, "You lie and you enjoy it don't you? Sick-"  
  
[Oh shut up already. I'm tired, leave me alone.]  
  
"-bastard."  
  
I wait for more words to follow, endless insults that wear heavily on the mind, but nothing comes. Malon, for the moment, seems satisfied, and to tell the truth, it's fine by me. I'm happy that she's decided to follow my advice and be quiet, as her sometimes constant prattle can not only be mentally disturbing but annoying. I prefer the quiet of sleep to her continuous tales on how this should have happened, or how I fucked up that.  
  
It's better like this. . .  
  
I settle back into the warm realm of slumber to doze (despite the fact I'm already damn warm enough), somehow finding a comfortable position amongst the rough rocks that cut into my back. I can't seem to find the will to care, though. It seems like all of the world has been swept away, leaving me alone, but peacefully so. The troubles that have been wearing on my mind - anything to do with Malon, who exactly is this Sheik? What about the Prime Evils? - they all slide so easily off my shoulders, like they were never there at all. . .  
  
When the sultry voice of sleep finally calls to me, I find no will to hide from that sweet tone. . .  
  
~*~  
  
"Hey, Link, I-" I turn around to find my Elven companion sleeping, his head resting on his shoulder. He's nestled in a crook in the wall, a position that does not look the least bit comfortable, when one considers all the sharp rocks that must be digging into his sides. On his face is a look I have yet to associate with him. Blissful sleep. Peaceful. In the while that I've known him, not once rest was off his own will. First, we fell off of that damned cliff, and since then he's been sick.  
  
It's funny, really. After my first meeting of him (the fight in fortress), and seeing the way he fought, I would have expected him to be more like. . .I don't know. . .more like. . .  
  
[A cold hearted killer. . .]  
  
The thought had jumped into my head from no where in particular, and I wish that it hadn't come to me at all.   
  
Despite what I thought then, he definitely bears no resemblance to that now. Instead of the cold, lust for battle that devoured his face earlier, he has a sort of childish mask embracing his being. A small smile rests on his face, and unlike before when he was sick, his breathing is even and steady.  
  
From the way he's acting, you wouldn't realize that he's a warrior. You would think something more along the lines of. . .of. . .  
  
A kid.  
  
Suddenly, even as I watch, the smile on his face changes to a light frown, and I find slight concern slipping on to my features. I can see nothing wrong with him, and it's not like he's been injured. . .  
  
Just a bad dream?  
  
Probably. . .though I can't shake this feeling of unease. . .  
  
Something just isn't right with this cave.  
  
At first, my thoughts and feelings were weak and undefined. I just blamed it all on our narrow escape from the Archangel, and the fact that we were still so close to the entrance, but now. . . That feeling has only intensified, growing stronger with each step I take through this dark cavern. I don't know how Link feels about all of this, but. . .He couldn't be thinking too bad about it, though. He hasn't said anything.  
  
I don't understand it though. . .This place is dark, quiet, and empty, and yet I get this strange feeling of danger from here. . .This whole land stinks with a foul flesh, reminding me of the strong scent of decay, but worse. . .  
  
In here, that smell isn't so bad, but I have a bad feeling. . .  
  
I think that whatever's in this cave is worse than whatever made that stench outside.  
  
Link just had to fall asleep though, didn't he? I was hoping to at least get a little farther out, maybe to make it out of this blasted cave completely. The uneasiness in here is assaulting me in waves, and I wish for nothing more than to get out as soon as possible.  
  
I sigh heavily, pushing aside my bangs carefully, but of course they just fall back in front of my eye. Not that I really expected anything else.  
  
Should I wake up Link? Or, should I let him sleep? I could see it as he walked today, how he was still tired. . .I worry that him exerting himself like this could have bad side effects, but what else can I do? The last of his canteen is gone, and now we are relying on my slightly larger one.  
  
If we had stayed where we were, well, Link would have had more time to recover, but the water supplies are getting painfully low. . .  
  
And that's why I am still wondering if I should wake him up.  
  
The quicker we move, the higher chance of us having supplies left.  
  
[Wake him? Or let him sleep?]  
  
I don't know. . .  
  
I. . .I. . .I should wake him. We shouldn't stay for long, and I don't like the feelings I'm getting from this place. The sight is a handy tool, whether it be through visions or feelings (or both) and I don't want to ignore it.  
  
I move closer to my sleeping companion, and gently lay a hand on his shoulder. He twitches slightly at the sensation, and I wonder again why would someone like him come to Hell in the first place?  
  
I shake him lightly, trying to wake him up, but he just groans something inaudible and rolls over. I frown, staring down at him. Why is he always so hard to wake up, damnit? He's breathing deep, obviously enjoying his needed sleep, but no matter what, I will wake him up. The faster we find a way out of Hell (I just hope he knows of one) the sooner we can get to a place where he can recover properly.  
  
Thus, with this knowledge in mind, I set out on the arduous task of waking Link.  
  
~*~  
  
Blackness. . .  
  
Nothing but blackness. . .  
  
No, that's not true. . .Hidden deep somewhere, there's a serene feeling of. . .of. . .  
  
Of peace. . .  
  
. . .  
  
It's nice. . .  
  
The warm blackness blankets my mind, sending it waves upon waves of comfort and peace, shadowing whatever thoughts I had in mind only moments ago. It is complete, encompassing. . .  
  
And yet. . .  
  
It's empty, alone. . .  
  
Quiet. . .  
  
Alone. . .  
  
"Alone?" A voice starts from behind me, somewhere in the dark mist that blankets me so tightly in its precious warmth, "You are never alone. . ."  
  
I spin about, my eyes falling on Malon, who stands there, with me, a beacon of flame in the night. I stare at her for but a brief moment, taking in her beauty. . .I move to take a step towards her, but a flash of green catches my eye.  
  
I look down and. . .  
  
I. . .I'm in my old tunic. . .  
  
. . .Where am I?  
  
"You know," Malon states, twisting a lock of her hair around her finger, and I vaguely notice that at her appearance, the warmth has begun to fade. . . "Most people would just ask the illusionary figure in their mind 'what's going on?'"  
  
"A dream?" I ask, nodding, ignoring her and turning away to look into the eternal black, focusing on nothing in particular, "Just a dream. nothing more. . ."  
  
"Brilliant job, genius," she replies with a slight giggle. I simply roll my eyes, "You just don't want to admit that this is real. . ." At that, I whip about, trying to look at her, but yet. . .I can't see her right. . .She's all blurry. . .as if through a mist. . .  
  
I take a step towards her, face falling into a frown. She continues to speak, though the words are not clear. . .I reach out towards her, and as my hand progresses, the mist slowly begins to clear. . .  
  
But as my hand touches her, she herself vanishes into the mist, which then simply dissipates. . .  
  
Alone again, and curious, I stare about. . .I still am in some dark endless abyss, but that warm comforting is long gone, replaced instead by an uneasiness that is like nothing I have ever felt before. . .It sets my heart on edge, my muscles twinge as if they want me to move, to run away and never come back. . .My hands sweat, and my body goes cold. . .my breath speeds up and my heart pounds. . .  
  
All alone. . .and yet. . .  
  
The harsh sound of static-  
  
[T.V. static. . .]  
  
-sounds from behind me, and I whip around to again find Malon, staring listlessly at me, uncaring and cold. There is no color to her, whatsoever, and she shifts shades. . .like the bad reception on that little T.V in Seifer's room. . .  
  
Seifer. . .I wonder what they're all doing now?  
  
Are they alive? Are they okay?  
  
I think there might be a smirk on Malon's face as she responds, but to me nothing more than a hazy garble of words pour out, indistinguishable from one another. Her image is hazy, and occasionally it catches on itself. . .glitching up repetitively. . .  
  
Almost like someone's got her on rewind. . .  
  
Suddenly her voice clears. . .And I can hear the words that pour out of her mouth. . .  
  
"Alon-"  
  
"Alo-"  
  
"Alone-"  
  
three voices, all different tones of hers, speak together, only slightly off. . .One whispering, one crying, one screaming. The very sound haunts my mind, and I vainly grip at my ears. . .  
  
Why must it be that Malon haunts me like this?  
  
She reaches for me, her hand blurring in and out with the instability of her own existence, and just about when she is going to touch me (I can't seem to move), I am suddenly yanked backwards through the layers of consciousness, and back to the world of light. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I sit up with a gasp, almost hitting my head into Sheik's. He moved back quick enough, leaving me space to try and stand up. I do, shaking my head slightly at the thoughts - voices - that still plague my mind. Sheik seems to take notice, and questions me on it.  
  
"Bad dream?"  
  
"Yeah. . .I guess so. . .Just," I look back up, frowning in concentration, "Just a little different than what I'm used to."  
  
"Any meaning to it, or. . .?"  
  
"No," I reply, "Nothing. Just. . .Just old junk." He nods as if in understanding, his face (or what I can see of it) showing deep thought. I let the matter lay, as I don't really want to talk about my little delusions.  
  
Would Sheik think I'm crazy. . .?  
  
But what about Isabella? She saw Malon too. . .  
  
Am I really crazy?  
  
"You are freaken nuts," her voice whispers in my ear, "You just don't know it yet."  
  
[Really? So what's the deal with going into my mind and screaming in three different voices at me?] I take a look in her direction, making sure that my actions aren't too suspicious. Sheik just probably thinks I'm studying in the area.  
  
"Care sharing?" Sheik asks, and I don't turn back towards him (I want to see Malon's expression).   
  
"Well, it's nothing important. Just some of my old adventuring, is all."  
  
"Screaming in three different voices?" Malon narrows her eyes, "What kind of crack are you on?" Where did she get that expression from, "You even crazier than I thought."  
  
It's my turn to narrow my eyes, and frown at her. So. . .Well, I'm confused. This all could, of course, just be some twisted mix up in my mind, but usually after she bothers my dreams, Malon admits to it. . .But why not this Time?  
  
[Maybe I'm just overreacting. . .It's nothing. . .]  
  
I turn again towards Sheik, slightly amused and disturbed to see that he has been talking, and I haven't caught one word of it. I choose now to listen in, opting for pretending to have listened, rather than have him repeat it all.  
  
"-move. I don't like it much here. . .What do you say? Should we go back?" He crosses his arms, and stares down at me (damn him for being a bit taller. . .It makes me feel at a disadvantage around him). I nod.  
  
"This cave can't go on forever. . .I say that we just continue on," oh, please let this be what he was talking about, "And besides, Tyrael could be waiting for us back there." I frown, "Uh. . . What did exactly happen with Tyrael?"  
  
"I was hoping you would tell me," Sheik replies, lowering his arms, "I was going to wait, though. . .Thought that it would be best if I asked you tonight."  
  
"You don't understand Common. . .do you?" He shakes his head.  
  
"I do understand Common. . .but not that Common. It is different from the Common I learned, I could only pick up a few words of what you were saying." At his words, the memories come back. . . Me and Tyrael. . .Arguing about how sane I am. . .  
  
Right now, I'm not so sure. . .  
  
"We didn't say all that much. . .He tried to insist that I'm some kind of menace, and I just argued back that I wasn't. . ."  
  
//Keeping you out in the world wouldn't have solved anything, Hero,| Tyrael replies so quietly that I step forward again, |You wouldn't have died. . .|\\  
  
Tyrael said that. . .But. . .what did he mean? Of course I would have died, right? There's no way that without the sealing I would have remained alive for all this Time. . .  
  
"You sounded rather angry to me," Sheik comments, taking a step closer, "Are you sure that's all he said?"  
  
"Of course," I lie, and though I wish not to, I don't think it would be a very smart idea telling Sheik that apparently I will go insane and ravage the worlds like some kind of plague, "He was just being a bit of an asshole, is all."  
  
Sheik nods in understanding, and then swiftly he turns away from me and towards the small pile of things nearby. . .Our supplies and his bag of stolen goods (it still hasn't quite sunk in that Sheik (this Sheik, I remind myself) is a thief) lay together on the floor. He grabs what's left of my bag (damn is that thing torn), and he slings it over his back, and picks up his own bag as well. I wish to say that I will take my own stuff, but that conversation will just end like the argument we had earlier.  
  
I sigh, and am about to turn when Sheik's hand darts into the bag, and out again it comes so quick that I hardly saw it. He tosses the contents (the canteen) towards me, and I catch it purely on luck and reflex. . .Had I been aware that he was going to throw it at me, well. . .  
  
I wouldn't have been able to catch that. . .  
  
I weigh it in my hands. . .It's a bit light. . .This is his own canteen, which means. . .That mine is probably empty. . .And this one is somewhat used. . .  
  
I don't really need a drink, do I?  
  
"Take a swig," Sheik offers, somewhat stubbornly, as if he knew what I was just thinking. . .I do want a drink, but. . .I just don't want to waste the water. . .  
  
Looking up and seeing Sheik's expression, I know that I can't just refuse. . .He's not going to let me. . .Strange, seeing as he and I aren't even friends, just traveling companions. . .So why would he care if I were to keel over and die?  
  
"Maybe he doesn't want a dead body on his hands," Malon suggests, not in her usual hissing tone, and I have to hold back the urge to nod along with her words. It makes sense, I suppose, though I have a hard Time imagining the ever enigmatic Sheikah worrying about a simple death. . .  
  
I look back down at my canteen, and an idea suddenly strikes me. I twist off the cap (damn thing's on here good!), and I raise the opening to my mouth.  
  
That, of course, doesn't mean I drink any.  
  
I fake the whole, the entire Time with my mouth actually closed. I do wish to open it, to accept the water that brushes my lips like some divine form of-  
  
I don't have Time to finish the thought, as suddenly something hits me in the back, and in my surprise, I gasp.  
  
And, of course, open my mouth.  
  
The water pours in, and I am soon coughing as it drips into my lungs. Through the coughing fit that plagues me, I open my eyes (which seem rather content to stay shut as I drown) to see Sheik behind me, one hand on my back, a gleam in his eyes.  
  
Bastard. . .  
  
"Sorry," he says, his voice slightly muffled by his cowl, "But you seemed adamant not to drink."  
  
"But did you have to drown me?" I croak, coughing a few more Times just to make sure that everything went down properly. As much as I hate him for doing that, I can see just how clever he is. He must have planned for it, or at least caught on quick enough. . .  
  
But a lot water. . .  
  
I guess better down my throat (or my lungs, or whatever), than on the ground. . .  
  
Sheik gives me a light pat on the back, "Come on, let's get moving. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
Another few hours of travel, and again I feel wearied. . .Despite the fact that we didn't even get too far. This Time, it is not only me who is tired, but Sheik is looking rather under the weather as well. . .It's been a long day (whatever) for him, and he's got to be exhausted.  
  
So when he asked me who would take the first watch, I volunteered.  
  
And now, I stand here, my back against the rocky walls of the cave, staring out into darkness. To my right sleeps Sheik, laying on his blanket. I can hear his breathing in the deep quiet of this place, the only sound besides my own. Malon hasn't appeared to me in a long while, and I'm not sure whether that's a good thing, or not.  
  
Keeping watch in a place like this is damn boring.  
  
I shift off of the wall, and with my hands in my pockets, I pace about the room, trying to fight off the weariness that gnaws at my mind and body. It works, mostly, though I can't help but notice that it isn't helping my sore feet any.  
  
Well, whatever. Can't be helped.  
  
The day had passed slowly, and uneventfully. Nothing had happened, and Sheik and I walked in utter silence. I was almost wishing for Malon to come and pester me, as it could take my mind away the memories of what Tyrael said to me. . .  
  
Will I really go mad?  
  
Am I already?  
  
Where is the line drawn between sanity and madness?  
  
I shake my head. I don't know, and I doubt that Sheik does, either. Not like I could ask him anyway, doing so would not only wake him up but cause suspicion. . .And I don't want to chase him away. . .  
  
My mind is still so hung up on his existence. . .Why does he look so much like Zelda's disguise? Is there some kind of connection? Or is it just some terrible coincidence?  
  
I look at his sleeping form, and wonder if I could get away with taking a peek at his face. . .I'm so curious. . .I've never seen him without his mask on. . .What would he look like?  
  
Maybe he's a long lost relative of Zelda?  
  
Nah. Zelda didn't have any Sheikah blood in her. . .And there's no doubt in my mind that Sheik is a pure blood. . .  
  
I sit down (well, more like drop down) to the ground beneath me, one leg stretched out, the other being used as an arm rest. It's just a bit uncomfortable, due to the rocky ground, but I've had worse. . .  
  
I wish I knew what my background is. . .  
  
It seems like such a simple thing, doesn't it? Who on earth would care about what race they were? I do. It's surprising, really. I never thought that I would care about my background, but. . .Over the years, my wish to know has only grown stronger. . .Like some unquenchable thirst for knowledge. . .  
  
I find myself again staring at Sheik, a companion who seems willing to follow me all the way to the deepest pits of Hell. I doubt that he'd be so quick to follow if he knew exactly where I am going, but I just can't tell him. . .The idea of coming through Hell is horrifying enough-  
  
[Blood. Death. Bodies, bodies everywhere. . .]  
  
[Screams.]  
  
[There's a poor girl screaming and where is she and why is there so much blood and-]  
  
-But. . .Now that he's here, I don't even really think or truly notice the horrors. Having someone around lessens everything that mad this place so damn evil before, or maybe. . .  
  
Maybe the reason I haven't noticed is because there is nothing inside of this damn cave.  
  
Should I take off his cowl? I am horribly curious. . .But if he were to catch me. . .I could always just ask him to show me his face. . .  
  
Is he really related to Zelda?  
  
[No, that can't be-]  
  
I get up and start walking towards him, not really sure whether I'm going over there to reveal his face, or if I'm gonna sit back down again. I guess I'll find out when I get over there, but-  
  
All of the sudden, a wind (ah, cool air) blows through the cave, howling as it passes me. I turn and face the deeper areas, where the wind came from, searching for a source, but there is none. Nothing but blackness stares back at me, and to tell the truth, I don't really care. There IS something there, I'm sure of it. . .  
  
/Coward. . .\ A voice echoes. . .and as I stare into the pitch black, trying to catch sight of anything, I notice a white speck, off in the distance.  
  
But suddenly, it's not a speck anymore. . .  
  
As it gets closer, the figure enlarges, until I can see that it's a white form racing towards me, vaguely shaped like a Human. . .No, more like an Elf. . .  
  
Kind of how Zell and the others described me when I was still a ghost. . .  
  
My eyes go wide, and I try so hard to move, but it seems like I am locked on the spot, unable to even to stir. The form just keeps getting closer, and now, I notice, that it is screaming. Such a loud sound, painful to my ears, and yet I can't raise my hands to block out the harsh noise.  
  
I am trapped in the middle of the cave, unable to move. . .And it finally reaches me, crashing into, but disappearing on contact. Somehow, my eyes go even wider, as I realize that it did not hit me, it did not go through me, it went INTO me. Sudden pain lances through me - from my sword hand - spreading through the rest of my body like a virus. I fall, finally, to my knees, my one hand held tight against my chest.  
  
As if it were broken. . .  
  
The pain is so much that I can't even make noise - my mouth is open but no cry, no scream comes out. My breath catches in my throat, and suddenly, just as I am wondering when sweet death will come to put me out of my misery, it all stops. . .  
  
And darkness descends. . .   
  
~*~  
  
A cold and empty plain. . .covered by mist. . .  
  
Or is it?  
  
I stand here, surrounded by the gray haze that has fallen on this dead land, confused and forgetful. Something just happened. . .I know it did. . .Clutching my head, I claw at the answers, but they do not come to me. . .  
  
I was on watch, wasn't I?  
  
Before I can follow that train of thought, the haze lifts slightly, and reveals to me that this place is indeed not empty.  
  
No.  
  
It is filled.  
  
Dead bodies stare up at me, their skin the same shade as the mist, as the ground, as death itself. Gray and cold and stiff, their twisted forms seem to grin at me. Dead eyes watch me, almost as if amused. . .Partially decomposed. . .Limbs lifted up as their last bit of life left them, forever frozen in their spots. . .  
  
Hands grope out at me, as if reaching for one last person to save them. . .Someone to ease their pain. . .  
  
But, no one ever came. . .They died alone. . .  
  
. . .  
  
For one moment, I swear they moved. . .  
  
For one moment, I swear that they were groaning, starting to get up and come towards me. . .  
  
But they are dead. Never to move again. Not even those who look far less touched than others. . . And especially not those who show severed limbs, burns and gashes and lacerations and-  
  
And hand lands on my shoulder, and I twist about, both scared and oddly curious. There, behind me, stands a sight I wish I never would have to see.  
  
A man, who before his death, would have been only a few years older than me. His hair is bleached white with death, forced strait up in a manner somewhat similar to Zell's, except instead of massive gelling, it is held there by a thin red headband, the only thing in this dead wasteland with color. His grin is huge, and surprisingly, he has all of his teeth. . .But not much of his lips. His nose is slightly withered, and one eye hangs from it's socket and rests on the cheek below. Clothes are tattered and torn, dusty grays. . .  
  
His figure looks almost to have lost all it's skin, showing off the muscles instead. . .Those too, are somewhat withered, and in areas all but disappear, and are of course the gray color of this world, but tinged with a faint hint of blue. His hands are bony, his eyes ringed with black. . .There are cuts and gashes across his chest, dried blood stained there in black.  
  
He's missing half of his cheek, revealing the bones within, and he's far too skinny. . .  
  
In one hand, he holds a sword, rather plain military style, resting the flat of the blade on his shoulder, which looks far too weak to even support it.  
  
And despite all of this, he stands as though he were still alive and strong. I can't help but stare into his red eyes - red, like Sheik's - and he only grins back, his breath smelling heavily of death and disease. . .  
  
/Failed. . .\ He croaks, his voice both mental and physical, the sound of a dead man walking (terribly appropriate). I can only stare back, horrified and yet bizarrely intrigued.  
  
He takes his gaze away from mine, staring at the ground as he changes his hold on his sword, lowering it to the ground. . .and then gripping it with both hands in front of him, still angled to the ground. . .  
  
His grin changes to a smirk, and then his eyes flash back up to mine, almost seeming to be on fire, glowing with an inner hatred. . .  
  
/DIE!\  
  
And he swings the sword.  
  
I, terrified, seek for some weapon to block the blow, but my sword is not on my back, and I lost my shield long ago. . .I raise my arms in front of my face as a vain attempt to stop the powerful attack from sinking into my skull, but. . .  
  
Through the cracks in-between my arms, I see. . .Behind the long sword follows a shockwave, changing the very world around me like a steady flood of magic were seeping into the dead air.  
  
But this new world (one that I am glad to see ole gruesome is not a part of) is no better than the last. . .Replacing the bodies of all those dead men - most likely soldiers - were now slews of child corpses, littered about in a reckless fashion. . .Some Times the ground was skimpily covered, and in other areas there were piles twenty feet high, morbid monuments to whatever slaughter had occurred here.  
  
I looked all about me. . .Same dead plains. . .Nothing in sight but miles and miles of dead children. . .  
  
And again, behind me, I came to see my attacker, face to face. A smirk on his, a worried glance on mine.  
  
Needless to say, I take a step back, and again he raises his sword, menacingly. . .And before I even have the time to move, the sword is thrust, straight through my ribcage and out the other side. . .  
  
There is no pain. . .only. . .only a strange feeling of bliss. . .  
  
In the slowness of the moment, I find myself looking down with detached interested at the sword that has just impaled me. . .  
  
What a plain looking hilt. . .  
  
Ole Gruesome closes his eyes and falls back into his hellish smirking, before withdrawing the blade using one strong yank. My support gone, there is nothing more that I can do than totter, and fall down, to the ground. . .  
  
In this world. . .even my blood is black. . .  
  
I drown in it, twisting and spinning. . .the blackness fills my sights. . .there is nothing else. . .  
  
Am I dead?  
  
No, I'm falling. . .?  
  
Falling into the blackness that is - was - my blood, I can't stop. . .There is nothing for me to fall on to, no ground to stop my descent into the very bowels of Hell itself. . .  
  
Still in the pitch black, I somehow find a way to the ground. . .Whatever works as ground here. . .I rise shakily to my feet, instantly grabbing at my chest. . .  
  
There is no wound. . .  
  
My mind is hazy, misted over with questions that I am unable to understand. . .  
  
It didn't hurt. . .  
  
Everything here. . .feels so fake, and yet. . .so real. . .  
  
It is cold here, deathly cold, and the more morbid part of my mind wonders if I really did die. . .But then, there is a sound like the roar of a fire, and I turn, my body aching for that warmth. . .There, opposite to me is a roaring fire. . .Burning away at nothing. It stands tall, and flickers wildly, as if a wind were teasing it, but I feel no breeze.  
  
I don't feel anything, except that warmth. . .  
  
The image burns into my mind as though it were branded there. . .  
  
Something approaches (or someone), and I don't know how I know but I do, and I turn around. There, in the darkness, I can make out nothing more than two flaming red eyes (why does that seem so familiar?) floating there, about two feet before me, lacking pupils and joyless. I find myself staring at the flickering flames in the eyes, twisting and turning. . .dancing. . .  
  
And then, as I come back to myself, I realize that for the second Time, I'm about to be run through. . .  
  
Everything blurs, and then fades, but the pain remains. . .  
  
~*~  
  
My eyes snap open and the hot air hits my cold sweat covered body. My mind is a blur, unable to think coherently, and when I notice the two blood red eyes staring down at me, I freak.  
  
[It's going to kill me! I've got to move!]  
  
I try to roll to the side, but the owner of the red eyes grabs my tightly and holds me still. I stare up at my attacker, confused and breathing harshly, still trying so hard to escape. His red eyes stare at me - with concern?  
  
I force myself to calm down and take a better look. Blonde hair spills out from a bandaged head, covering one eye nearly completely, his lower face covered by a cowl of bandages. The red eyes watch me carefully, worried, and then I realize that I am staring up not into the face of some monstrous being out for my flesh, but Sheik.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asks me, fear evident in his voice. I nod slowly.  
  
"I think so. . .What happened?"  
  
"You feel asleep,"I heard the Sheikah chuckle quietly, but my gaze was not focused on him, "Nice time you get that tired, just wake me up."  
  
I frown in concentration. . .I want to argue, I didn't just fall asleep, something else happened. . .But I can't remember. . .I sigh. It seems like I can't remember much of anything lately. . .I want to remember, to tell him the truth, but. . .I can't even properly concentrate. . .  
  
All I can seem to think about is some fire, or something alight. . .But, my head's too fuzzy to think right. . .  
  
"Come on, we should get moving." Sheik stands up, and after a moment of blank hesitation, so do I. He looks at me, and seeing my dazed, questioning stare, he explains that we've probably both had enough sleep (he asked me, but it took me a few moments to even realize he was talking to me), and that we should keep moving. I barely noticed the nervous look in his eyes, and he said that he still didn't like the feeling of this area, and that we should try to get out of here as soon as possible. . .  
  
Well, he said something like that, I think. . .  
  
I can't be sure, because all I can see is the flickering flame that haunts my mind. . .And damn, I feel so cold. . .  
  
~*~  
  
It's been two whole days.  
  
Two days since Link said a word. Two days in which I've had to force him into eating something, and drinking as well. . .  
  
We're still stuck in these damn caves, tripping and stumbling in the dark, lost and there has been no other sign of life. Link walks as though in a trance, and though I've tried many times - countless times - he still hasn't said a word to me. Not a word. He doesn't focus his eyes on anything, he just walks and sleeps.  
  
I don't know what's wrong with him. . .Ever since I found him asleep, he's been growing steadily more distanced. . .There's nothing physically wrong with him, but. . .It's like. . .  
  
I sigh.  
  
I can't even describe it.  
  
I look over my shoulder to see him there, still following. . .There was one point, quite a ways back where I almost lost track of him. He fell, and I didn't notice right away. . .  
  
Luckily, I decided that would be a good time to check up on him.  
  
That sleep of his. . .Did that something to do with this? He told me when he 'sees' things, that his visions drain him, but this isn't a draining, this is more like. . .more like. . .  
  
More like something sucked out his soul.  
  
When I woke him up from his sleep, the look of horror in his eyes was. . .unusual, to say the least. I was worried, I couldn't see any wounds on him, and I had never seen anyone act that way after waking up, ever. Then again, I am rarely ever around other people. . .And I never dream. I just have visions.  
  
I never dream.  
  
We round the corner, somewhat slowly, so that I don't out walk Link. A quick glance at his face shows what I knew I would see, yet was afraid of, anyway. His face is as blank as ever, staring off forever ahead of him, but seeing nothing. I sighed again, and faced forward once more.  
  
The least I could do was protect him, right? I mean, I had no obligation to, but this did happen to him while he was in my company after all. . .I should, I guess, at least look after him, until I find someone willing to look after him until he's better.  
  
Right?  
  
I look down at the ground, almost guiltily. But, that's all I could do, right?  
  
Suddenly, from behind me, there is a sound. . .a sudden intake of breath. I turn around, both hope and fear being born in my chest, and before I even have the chance to face him, Link runs past me. . .  
  
. . .With that same blank look on his face. . .  
  
~*~  
  
Somewhere far ahead, in the endless darkness. . .There is a light. . .  
  
[A flame. . .]  
  
Joy leaps into my chest, and now, at last, the images of a fire have subsided in my mind, replaced now by that glowing light off in the darkness. . .  
  
I might be running. . .I can't tell. . .Everything is too far away. . .  
  
All that matters is that fire. . .  
  
It's like my mind is stuck in a freeze frame motion. . .I'm missing moments. . .Things are suddenly skipping forward. . .The flame is not growing gradually larger. . .It's just growing rapidly. . .And yet, ever so slowly. . .  
  
I need it. . .  
  
Damn it. . .give it to me. . .please. . .I need it. . .  
  
For one second, there is something before me. . .Something large and white and it passes right through me. . .  
  
[Not into me. . .Through me. . .]  
  
I don't care. . .I don't care at all. . .It's like someone is pulling me there. . . to the flame. . .  
  
So close. . .  
  
I can almost hear it. . .  
  
/Come to me. . .\  
  
I hear the faint whisperings in my ear, the only thing that matters to me right now, besides that flame. . .It gets louder as I get closer. . .It sounds so close. . .  
  
Suddenly, through the haze that is my mind a painful scream pierces the air, lessening the fog on my mind. . .I try to turn, but I can't seem to control myself.  
  
/No. . .forget him. . .come to me. . .\  
  
[No. . .] I lurch about, forcing my body to obey me. It responds, but not without a painful twinge in my muscles.  
  
Sheik. . .I frown, trying to think straight. . .Sheik. . .he's in trouble. . .He's fighting a. . .something white. . .Damn it, I wish this haze would just go away, the flame. . .It's calling for me again. . .  
  
. . .It's a wraith. . .he's fighting a wraith. . .  
  
Sheik's in trouble. . .those things can't be hurt physically. . .  
  
/Come to me. . .\  
  
The stronger, harsher whisper of the voice calls to me, pulling me with every bit of it's will. . .The haze starts settling again, and I force it back so strongly I almost feel it. I must help Sheik!  
  
I try to go towards him, but against my will, my body turns back to face the flame. I scream out against this, fighting, writhing in my own body for dominance, but it's a fight I can't win. . .  
  
But. . .I've gotta help Sheik. . .  
  
/Come. . .\  
  
I gotta help. . .  
  
/Come. . .I can help you. . .\  
  
I. . .I gotta. . .  
  
/. . .Power. . .\  
  
. . .I. . .  
  
/. . .Revenge. . .\  
  
I vaguely realize that I've come to an altar of sorts, bathed in a bright red flame. . .It dances and twirls and performs. . .So taunting. . .  
  
I must go through. . .I must be in the flame. . .I need it. . .so badly. . .A part of me wants to go back. . .but that is unimportant, and that side of me is simply tossed aside as if it was never there. I didn't care. . .No. . .I needed that flame. . .  
  
/I can give you the power. . .for your revenge. . .\  
  
"Revenge. . .?" I mumble shakily, unaware that I am even talking aloud.  
  
"Link! H- Agh!" a strangled voice yells from behind me, but it dims.  
  
The . . .flame is trying. . .to. . .  
  
/Don't resist. . .,\ burning hot yet warm and loving tendrils of heat passed over my skin, caressing me, /. . .you're so close. . .\  
  
And then, without a second thought, I walk through the wall of flame, and I know that down deep there was some part that would have fought, but it has no control now. . .It's like I'm possessed. . .  
  
After what seems like an eternity of waiting. . .waiting and wanting and needing. . .I emerge through the other side. . .somehow un-burnt. . .And there, before me, in the middle of this altar is something that I've never seen before. . .  
  
Upon the flat top is a deis, centered right in the middle of a carving of an eye. . .Similar to the Sheikah symbol. . .But the lines aren't quite so precise. . .It's more chaotic. . .But what catches my attention most is the sword in the pedestal in the middle. . .  
  
It is a beautifully crafted long sword, a silver white blade, tinged with gold as it nears the hilt. The hand guards stretch out from the blade, first to the sides for several inches, before suddenly branching off at a ninety degree angle to form large sharp spikes, while at first gold, they shift slowly to white near the tips.  
  
The shaft of the hilt itself changes from that beautiful gold into a burning flame read. . .etched with what appears to be the symbol of a dragon. . .or something. . .before finally ending with a small gold tip, shaped like a jewel. I stare at it lovingly, knowing instantly that this treasure is the flame I have been wanting so badly. . .  
  
I reach forward, and my hand grasps the hilt. I somehow find the willpower to hesitated, fighting back just so that I can stare at the lovely weapon. . .I can feel a tingle of warmth as I stand there, for one brief second. . .  
  
/Unstoppable. . .\  
  
With a jerk, I pull the sword up from the pedestal and hold it an inch up from the ground. Before I have time to further admire it (like the way the blade widens slightly before closing up again into a sharp tip), the pillar of fire surrounding me flares, and collapses inward. . .  
  
And I am lost in my own personal agony. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N : Hi again. For those of you who know D2 like the back of your hand, yeah, I know. My description of the Hellplague was rather bad, but it was from what I remember, so don't get too mad. . .And yes, I know, it's not all that great of a weapon, but. . .I don't know why. . .I'm just like infatuated with it. . .or something. *shrugs*  
  
Well, I do believe that is it for this chapter, and I'll see ya all next time, right? Bye for now! 


	36. Chapter XXXV Bathed In Flame

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXV - Bathed In Flame  
  
~*~  
  
"Like a bat out of Hell,   
  
I'll be gone when the morning comes. . ."  
  
-Meat Loaf "Bat out of Hell"  
  
~*~  
  
I am bathed in living flame, feeling it burn and scald my skin, smoldering my flesh and searing my mind. I struggle to move, to drop the sword which has forced this unbelieveable pain upon me, but something deep inside myself has linked with the weapon, and my hand refuses to let go.  
  
/No. . .STAY still. . .\  
  
My sight is gone, replaced instead by endless white, and I can hear nothing over the roar of the flame. I pull back, trying to blindly find my way out of the fire, but as I twist and turn, my skin still burns. I try desperately to scream, to let out my pain, but I can't seem to find a body to scream with. My form shudders, trying to shake off this hellish torment, and yet again I try to drop the thing that is causing me all this torture.  
  
/. . .ACCEPT IT! SUBMIT TO CHAOS!\  
  
Waves of white hot pain crash down upon me, and I spasm violently, my muscles shuddering, convulsing. . .And yet, I obey. I can find no escape, no release from this torture, and so I do all that I can.  
  
I hold on to the sword for dear life. . .  
  
After an eternity of agony, the fire around me slowly fades, releasing my form from it's deadly grip. I fall heavily to my knees, breathing hard. . .Cold, tired, and yet, miraculously alive. Sweat pours off my brow, purple spots dance before my eyes, I shudder uncontrolably, my muscles ache, and my nerves creep. . .giving me the bizarre sensation of bugs running up my spine. . .I stare down weakly at my hands, amazed that the skin is normal. . . I expected burns and blisters, for my very flesh to have melted and  
  
corroded, and yet. . .  
  
I'm whole. . .  
  
To my left, the sword lays right beside me. . .shimmering lightly in the red light coming from. . .the exit. . .  
  
We're almost out. . .  
  
I pick up the weapon, which my mind somehow automatically identifies as the Hellplague, feeling it's comfortable weight in my suddenly cold hand. . .At the touch, the sword heats my hand, sending a gentle wave of warmth through my body. . .  
  
I don't remember much of the last two or three days. . .They are just a blur. . .I do remember, though, something calling for me. . .The sword, but. . .whatever trance I was under then is gone now, and I am again in control of my mind. . .  
  
Right?  
  
There's a thud behind me, and I turn to see Sheik, bleeding and laying (unconscous? Dead?) on the ground. He's almost drowning in a pool of his own life, and hovering above him is that which must have struck him down. The wraith floats there, looking ready to finish the job.  
  
I struggle to my feet, noticing that my legs ache, as do my arms, but I succeed in standing up none the less. I sway, and almost topple, but my newly aquired sword works well to help me hold my balance. I've got to hurry though. . .Even if the wraith doesn't kill him, the blood loss just might do it.  
  
Finally properly on my feet, I only briefly wonder how the wraith could make Sheik bleed (if it is so spectral that he can't harm it, how could it then hurt him?) before I am running towards the fallen Sheikah. The wraith looks up calmly, almost as if studying me, judging the threat I could pose towards it. I guess that it decides that I can't do much of anything, because it looks back down, ignoring me.  
  
Approaching, I can't hold back the smirk that begins to lurk on my face. I lunge at the creature, slashing my new weapon in an attempt to do something. I will not leave here without Sheik, even if it means my own death.  
  
The specter glides backwards in an attempt to dodge my blade, and I wonder why, seeing as I can't hurt it. . .It seems suddenly. . .almost scared. . .  
  
I swing again, and this time I hit. Imagine my surprise as the blade suddenly flares red, and is wrapped in living flame. . .  
  
Much like how it embraced me not all that long ago. . .  
  
Within seconds, the sword from the tip to the hilt is on fire, and I almost drop it from shock and fear of what happened earlier, but again I can't seem to let it go. . .It's a good thing, too, as the blade comes in contact with the wraith, and my opponent screams in pain. The white mist that makes up it's existence is suddenly stained red where I hit it, and the color does not fade. The being moves away from Sheik, and I move forward to protect him.  
  
Farore. . .He better be alright. . .He's not moving. . .  
  
The wraith now watches me closely, and I swear that if emotion could appear on it's skeletal face (its shape reminds me so much of a bird), then it would be glaring. I do much the same, not taking my eyes off of it for even just one moment. I observe it closely. . .I've never fought one of these things before, as my magic back then was already failing, and whatever sorcery I could summon would drain me horribly. . .  
  
It's body is skeletal, and shaped like a bird without feet. White mist holds it together, died red where I slashed earlier. He floats there, not needing to flap his wings, much like Tyrael flew, except. . .Tyrael was a sign of divinity, and this thing is. . .  
  
[Demonic, evil, ghostly, hellish. . .]  
  
Without any warning, the wraith suddenly lunges at me, it's transparent teeth flashing. I jump back, adrenaline flowing, brandishing my sword before me and letting my weapon fall into a defensive position before more. The wraith seems unfazed by my movements, and continues to approach, gliding through the air menacingly.  
  
However, when it nears the weapon it is forced to stop dead in it's tracks.  
  
Just as I expected, the beautiful blade again ignites, forming a flaming shield (of sorts) before my body. The wraith reacts, though too late, by pulling itself away from the flame. Now, it's entire chest is a bright red and it wails yet again, the sound piercing and desperate. I step back, away from the thing. . .preparing for my next move. . .How am I supposed to defeat this thing? It's just turning a red color. . .How is that supposed to kill it?  
  
The thing rears back, before again trying to attack me. Instead of blocking, this time I side step the creature and complete my turn, causing a huge red scar to appear in the mist that holds it together. It screeches, frozen in place by it's pain.  
  
I don't waste the chance.  
  
I dash forward, and drive my new sword into the body of the wraith. The blade moves through the air as if cutting nothing, and yet the fire appears again of it's own will. The white metal of the Hellplague is now deeply imbedded in my opponent, flaring as bright as some distant sun, and of course, the wraith cries out again with it's hissing wail.  
  
The fire jumps from my sword to consume the wraith in an unbelievable blaze, wrapping around it and devouring it whole. The specter burns in the air like somekind of suspended torch, both the fire and the wraith translucent, but the ash that falls is as real as I am. The wraith disappears into dust, blowing away through the cave on a non-existant wind.  
  
Sweaty and exhausted (though that wraith was easy to kill with magic) I fall to my knees, and hug myself tightly. . .My hands are cold, and I can't stop shivering. . .The adreneline still runs through me, but I doubt my sudden weakness has anything to do with that easy battle. . .  
  
I'm so cold. . .  
  
My glance falls across Sheik's motionless frame, laying there in a growing pool of blood. He's still bleeding, and he needs my help. I get to my feet as quickly as I can, and I stumble over to him, unable to ignore the numbness in my legs and arms. I feel overtaxed. . .Tired, hungry. . .cold. . .  
  
I check his wounds as quickly as I can. . .he's got a few cuts and slashes on him. . .He'll live, but he needs food and rest. . .  
  
I finally find the ability to drop my sword, and I reach into my bag, finding that roll of bandages that Quistis gave to me. I run my hand through the middle so that it rests tightly around my wrist, and I quickly drag Sheik over to the wall of this cave. I try my best to drag him gently, but I can tell by his moans that it cannot be comfortable. . .but there's not much I can do about that now. The important thing is getting him bandaged up. . .  
  
I lean him up against the wall and pull the roll of bandages off my hand. I unravel some of the cloth, ripping the fabric apart with my teeth. I pull it over the wound on his chest first, pained by the way I hear him groan when I tug it too tight. Next are the cuts on hisarms, and the gash on his head. Soon all signs of injury are covered, and I sit back with a sigh. He's as well bandaged as I can get him right now. . .If only I were somewhere else, maybe I could get him something to disinfect his wounds, but I dont have the necessary items. . .  
  
Maybe once the bleeding at least slows, I'll wash out his injuries. . .Though they shouldn't get very infected, I bandaged them right away. To clean them out - if unnecessary - could be our downfall. . .Water is so precious here, and there's only one canteen left, with hardly anything in it. . .  
  
Which means that whatever I'm going to do, I've got to do it quick. I've got to get Sheik somewhere, but. . .where? Where should we go and stay until his wounds are healed? There's monsters in here, but at least this cave provides some shelter from the larger creatures. . .And a bit from the heat. . .I think. . .I'm still so cold. . .  
  
Should I leave with Sheik, and risk coming across a legion of monsters, or should we stay here to recover?  
  
I feel a tingling in my palm. At first I ignore it, but as the tingling turns into a strange itching, I take a look down at my hand.  
  
The sword, it's in my hand, the sliver white of the blade glowing a faint red. . .  
  
. . .I don't remember picking it back up after bandaging Sheik. . .  
  
I stare into the gentle glow and become lost in the misty blaze that covers it all the way to the hilt, wrapping it in a warmth that I can feel seeping into my cold fingers. I lift it slightly, my eyes following every move of the translucent fire carefully. I swing it once, twice, entranced by the sweeping flames and the red trail it leaves in its wake.  
  
I could protect him, couldn't I?  
  
Being careful, I lay Sheik down and sandwich him between our blankets. I try to position the blankets to provide him some protection from the rocky ground, and once I get it as good as I'm ever going to be able to, I flop down beside him. He's gonna live. . .  
  
He's gonna live. . .  
  
. . .At least, I hope he's going to. . .  
  
Damn.  
  
I lean heavily back against the rock wall behind me, crossing my feet and clasping my hands behind my head. I've just got to be careful with him. . .He's wounds aren't too serious, but its just the conditions that we're in. . .I can't get the proper medical supplies, and so there is a lower chance of him surviving. . .  
  
But he'll be alright.  
  
I'll be damned if I let him die now. . .  
  
Not after he's saved my life. . .multiple Times. . .  
  
~*~  
  
How is it possible that in the deepest pits of Hell, in a cave surrounded by lava rivers that I can somehow find a way to be cold?  
  
The very tips of my fingers are chilled, and my fingers themselves are cold. . .and yet no matter what I do to try and warm myself, nothing seems to work. . .Nothing, except, for having my hands tightly wrapped around my new sword. The warmth spreads gently, caressing my cold fingers. . .but it seems that almost as soon as I part from the weapon, the warmth again fades out, leaving me cold and alone. . .  
  
Alone. . .?  
  
I'm not alone.  
  
Of course, I can't tell exactly how long it's been since Sheik fell, but I've rested at least once during that Time, so it has to be at leasta day, I figure. My muscles still ache, but they are a hell of a lot better than before. When I hold the Hellplague, the ache seems to go away. . .Or, it is at least soothed by the strange weapon. . .But that could just be my imagination. . .How could a sword soothe injuries?  
  
For the first few hours after I pulled the blade, my mind came crashing down on me, and I seemed to hit some kind of. . .natural high. My muscles, while they still ached, they buzzed with a strange and my mind was working at speeds I didn't know it was capable of. My hand was constantly tightening and loosening its grip around the sword's hilt, but I couldn't let go. . .Not even for the short while I slept.  
  
Releasing a long breath, I look at the still form of Sheik. He has not awoken yet, but at least he is alive. . .Slowly, I move towards him, my grip - of course - still on the sword. Beside him lays the canteen, where I left it earlier. . .I gave him a drink before, but. . .I made sure not to look at his face when I pulled down his guise, but. . .I must admit I'm still curious, despite my efforts to just forget about it. . .  
  
So, I lower his cowl carefully, slowly, as if afraid the very motion could wake him up. . .  
  
Yeah right. He's unconscious, lucky to be alive, and he's gonna wake up just becase I removed his guise.  
  
His face is lean, and his eyes are, of course, their bright crimson. . .There's a small scar that shows up light against his tan skin, following the curve of his jaw. . .Looks like it might have been bad, but now its left nothing more than a little white line. . .  
  
Beneath his eyes are small sliver white tattoos, like triangular tears. . .three under each eye. . .They curve along underneath it, much like how I remember the Sage of Shadow's tattoos. . .She had some just like that, didn't she?  
  
I frown.  
  
What was her name again?  
  
[Impa. Zelda's nanny. Impa.]  
  
I sigh, discouraged by my inability to remember the small things from my past, and. . .truth be told, Impa wasn't a small thing. She was a huge towering Sheikah woman that was also the Sage of Shadow. . .Authority was her gift, and she wore it everywhere with her, like a sword wrapped in velvet. . .It was there, everyone could see it, and yet, you knew that it would take something harsh to push her to using it. . .  
  
I press the rim of the canteen against Sheik's lips, and I cradle his head with a hand behind his neck. The water pours slowly down his throat, and at first his gagging reflex starts up, but after only a moment it calms again, and he drinks. I watch carefully, making sure that he won't choke. . .Once enough has passed his lips, I pull away the canteen. . .  
  
Our water just keeps getting lower and lower. . .  
  
I haven't had any. . .not since before the battle with the wraith. . .We just don't have the water to spare, and Sheik needs it more than I do. . .I raise Sheik's cowl again, first attempting to with my left, but then I realize. . .I'm still holding my sword, and so I switch to the right.  
  
My grip instinctively tightens on the hilt as I look down at it, almost as if my own hand is afraid of me disliking it and tossing it aside like some useless toy.  
  
Maybe I should throw it away - even as I think that, my grip tightens even more, my knuckles turning white - it did burn me and I think it was the weird actions two days ago. I frown, wishing that I could remember. . .I know I pulled the sword, but what happened before that? I don't know, it's all a blurr. . .We walked, I know that much, and I think I slept, at least once. . .Did we talk about anything?   
  
How much Time had passed? I know something happened. . .I think. . .  
  
But. . .what damage could a simple sword do? Besides, I feel an odd allure towards it. . .  
  
[Drop it,] I grit my teeth with my frustration, trying to follow my own, unbidden advice, but my hand almost feels glued to it. . ."What's the harm?" I mumble outloud, "It's much better than my old sword, anyway." Before I can continue my inner (well, sort of) argument, Sheik suddenly stirrs and groans. I glance down quickly at him, half glad and half regretful at the intrusion.  
  
Why do I suddenly feel like I'm two different people?  
  
I shake the thought out of my head. . .Whatever may be going on in my mind, my body is still so much better than before, so I guess I can't complain. . .For those first few hours after my little 'high' I felt like some Goron mistook me for a sport ball. . .  
  
"Were you talking to yourself. . .?" Sheik mumbles, his throat dry and his voice raspy. I start to reach for the canteen, but. . .I can't give him any more right now. . .Some more in a little while, but for right now. . .There's not enough left, so Sheik's just going to have to do with a dry throat for a little while.  
  
"Yea, just thinking out loud," I say, somewhat evasively, looking away as Sheik's eyes, curious, try to stare into mine. There's a moment of awkward silence, as I refuse to look at Sheik, and instead seem to find the wall more interesting. I think he's studying me from behind. . .Trying to judge me. . .I supress a shudder at that thought.  
  
I don't want Sheik to get suspicious. . .  
  
I hear the movement of cloth, and I immediately turn around. The Sheikah is sitting up, moving slowly, and instantly, I'm trying to get him to lay back down, but he doesn't listen to my urgings. I swear I can almost hear his bones creak with his weariness as he stares around - his vision suddenly catches on something, landing sharply on my new sword.  
  
"Wh-what's that?" his voice cracks and he raises a hand to rub his throat. His gaze, howevver, does not stray from my fancy new item.  
  
"I found this," I grin, "and it's a lot better than my other sword."  
  
His eyes glance over it quickly, and his face shows a terrible dislike that even he - a Sheikah - has a hard Time hiding. I slowly pull it back and bring it up to my face, and study it. . .I watch it's gleam glow red in the light of this land. . .I feel the smooth grip of it's hilt beneath my callused fingers. . .  
  
[Leave it,] a part of my mind screams at me, and I try to drop it, but I can't seem to-  
  
"Link?" Sheik's voice echoes oddly in my head. I look up at him curiously, trying to keep my mind in order, "You're shaking," he says, motioning with his eyes to my now moving (however slightly) sword arm. I try to still it with my mind alone, but in the end I need the assistance of my other arm to keep it still.  
  
"Just fine," I say, smiling at him, though it feels fake and forced. Sheik doesn't seem convinced, either.  
  
There's a long silence in which neither of us says anything, and I look away from my companion, and force myself not to look at the sword, either. Instead I find interest in the bag of supplies that lays only about three feet away from my legs. I make myself notice how slender it is, and the way that it just lays there, limp. . .Getting close to empty. Our water's running low, and our rations are not much better.  
  
"How long was I out?" Sheik suddenly asks, almost making me jump. I turn and face him, noticing how tired he looks. . .  
  
"Uh, about a day, I guess," I mutter, looking back again at the near empty bag. . .And beside it lays my bow and my quiver, which is full, thank Farore. . .If we absolutely need to eat something, I can always find a creature to shoot. . .The thing I worry about is whether there's anything fit to eat in Hell.  
  
"A whole day. . .?" he mutters, pausing, before abruptly trying to stand up, but I quickly pull him back down, trying to be both gentle and assertive. This Time, I make sure that he's again laying down, and he doesn't fight back.  
  
He's too bloody tired.  
  
"Relax," I say, not looking at him, but again at the Hellplague. . .I blink, and pull my gaze away from it, focusing instead on Sheik's form. It takes effort - more than I would like - to keep from looking at the sword, but I manage it, "You're not fully healed. . ." I mutter, fighting the gentle pull.  
  
"We must be running low on supplies," he states in a harsh whisper, rolling his head to the side so that I can better see my expression. I watch him for a moment, that pull again gnawing at the edges of my thought, before I realize he's waiting for a reply.  
  
"A-actually, we've got enough for a few more days."  
  
"Still," he says, ". . .don't want to run out."  
  
"We'll be alright, we'll just. . .have to go a little easy on the supplies, okay?" Sheik gives me a funny look, and I ignore, shifting my gaze again to the pack near my feet. I can feel his eyes bore a hole into the side of my head, but I keep looking straight at that tiny, shriveled up pack that lays on the floor. . .Eventually, Sheik takes his gaze away from me, and I finally look up myself.  
  
"Maybe we should travel a little bit today and try to get out of this hellhole," my Sheikah comrade mutters, running a hand through his bangs, though they fall right back, "I don't want to risk-" Sheik yawns, and I finally notice exactly how drained he looks, "-us dying of starvation." His eyes squint, blinking for excessive periods of Time. His breathing is deep and heavy, laced with exhaustion, which is not surprising, of course.  
  
It's good to see him alive. . .  
  
"Sheik," I say, and he looks over towards me, and I stare back at him through the corner of my eyes, not completely facing him, "You look tired. Just get some rest. We're going no where till I can figure exactly what to do," as I speak he stares straight up at the ceiling, adjusting his line of sight. I watch as his eyes fall shut, open, and close once more.   
  
I smile, glad to see him getting better. I was a bit worried there. His wounds were not what I would normally consider life threatening, but again considering our conditions. . .Either way, I'm happy to have seen him awake. That's one problem solved, it seems like he's gonna be just fine.  
  
Now for the other problem: where to now?  
  
I have to go and check out the Chaos Sanctuary, as Diablo or Mephisto (or both) will most likely be there. Yeah, that's fine, but-  
  
I take a quick glance out of the side of my eyes at Sheik again.  
  
-what about the Sheikah? He'd be helpful, that's for sure. . .Or, at least I think he would be, but. . .I can't ask this of him. To ask somebody to accompany me to go and fight a Prime Evil would be like. . .Like. . .  
  
[Sending Amplisa to her doom?]  
  
I shudder at the thought, changing my line of sight from the pack to the floor. I close my eyes, and delve into the pain that rises at the very sound of that name. It's my fault she's dead, and that's why I feel guilty when I hear her name.  
  
As I should.  
  
[Then say it again: Amplisa. Amplisa. AMPLISA!]  
  
I sigh, and my shoulders droop. At her name, the scene of her death replays over and over in my head. . .Her bow bending, ready for the monster that approaches her, but she lets go too late, the bow still twanging, the arrow firing right into the skull of the monster, but it's too late. The scimitar has sliced open her neck and upper chest, and the soft fleshy tissues that make up her throat spill forth, dripping down her sternum.  
  
Her bow drops, the sound of heavy wood echoing through the dead halls, completely drowning out the strange clicking noise of bone walking on stone.  
  
I rush over.  
  
It's too late, but I run over there like a bat out of Hell. . .  
  
And no matter how fast I run, she's still dead and I'm still too late.  
  
My eyes refocus on the world around me and - releasing a deep breath - I move over towards the wall, and lean my back against it. The ceiling becomes a nice sight now, and I stare at it feeling rather detached. I've got to do something to get my mind off of Amplisa, even if it is slightly disrespectful to shrug aside her memory like this, but. . .  
  
"Keep it up and you'll go insane," Malon's voice states hauntingly beside me. I flinch at the sound, and immediately cover it up by not looking at her, not moving. . .I've got to stop this, lest I really do go crazy, like Tyrael believes I will.  
  
I furrow my brow. . .  
  
I will NOT go insane. . .  
  
"Oh come on, don't ignore me," she floats before me and I finally look at her, taking in the sight of flaming red hair and bright blue eyes, darkened only by their contemt for me. . .She's a bit off the ground, maybe an inch or two. She looks at me with a smile on her face as she sits with her legs folded beneath her.  
  
Again, I look away.  
  
"Hmm," she moves next to me seeming to want to look at my face but I turn away, turning my head to the side. She sighs and places a hand under my chin, directing my head towards her. I face her, and she keeps that hand, cupping my chin, guiding me. I allow her to study me, like a mother does to a child, tilting my head side to side and she looks.  
  
"I leave you alone for three days - about to days - and you're not taking care of yourself. Tsk tsk," she gives me a concerned glare, but I act indifferent, "You are so reckless, Link. What if I weren't here to guide you? Hmm? What then?" She runs her other hand down the side of my cheek, almost lovingly, "It hasn't even been to long, and already you're showing signs of going gaunt."  
  
I roll my eyes and whisper, "It's not been that long, Malon. 'Sides, I've always been skinny."  
  
"There's a difference between skinny and emacitated," she says with a gleam in her eye. Without warning, she turns her head to the left, and stares. I follow her gaze, finding that the only thing she could be looking at is Sheik, laying there, wrapped in his blankets. I loosened them earlier, as he was overheating.  
  
"Oh, what happened to him?" She looks again at me, an innocent smile on her face, "Where were you? Sleeping on the job?" She looks at my left side, ". . .Distracted?" Her voice is taunting in it's tone, and I wish desperately that she would just leave me alone.  
  
I again follow her gaze and see that this Time she is looking at the Hellplague. The white silver of the blade mists over with a fiery red, almost as if in. . .apology? Don't know where that thought came from. . .It clears again, and still I stare at the blade. Malon's image doesn't reflect back, reassuring me. I'm all alone in her with Sheik. . .  
  
No need to address an illusion.  
  
"Well, that's quite rude of you," she replies, drawing my attention away from the sword, "Is that all I am to you? An illusion?" She glares harshly at me, daring me to answer her. To admit that yes, all I see her as is a figment of my imagination. That all these years the one person I have truely loved is dead and that I see her as though she were with me.  
  
Am I insane?  
  
No.  
  
I am not insane.  
  
"Yes," I whisper, pained to admit the words. I close my eyes swifly, trying to escape her sad form. I wish to say otherwise. . .But it's true. If I did not know it, then the blade would have proven it. She was not reflected, like I was, and so she's not real. . .I've been talking to an illusion. . .Nothing more than a mere image my mind has created. . .  
  
No sound follows for many minutes, and the silence finally breaks with Malon's voice, slightly cracked. . .as if with sadness? I look back up at her, but she is turned away from me this Time, her posture slightly hunched.  
  
"You. . .you should get going," her voice starts off thick and tired, but then she clears her throat, "You need to keep going." She fades out, and I am alone once more. . .  
  
~*~  
  
Sleep is torn from me, leaving me restless and painfully awake. The very first thing I notice is not the hot air or the rocky ground, but instead the strange tightness on my chest and my arms, as well as on my forehead. I open my eyes slowly (the bright red light hurts my eyes, and is immediately followed by a wave of heat) and touch my forehead, the tips of my fingers telling me what is causing my discomfort.  
  
Bandages.  
  
I open my eyes again, not quiet sure what has happened. . .  
  
Link.  
  
Link. . .  
  
That damn white thing.  
  
My eyes - which had begun to close again, seeming of their own will - snap open. I stare at my arm, noticing the bandages. . .The darkness of the atmosphere. . .The way it sillouettes my arm, the red light from below causing large shadows to form all over the walls and ground, which are all a dead, barren color. . .  
  
Still in Hell.  
  
I push myself up with an arm, using my elbow as support. I study the surrounding area, and it takes less than half a second for me to realize something.  
  
I'm no longer in that goddess damned cave.  
  
I'm outside again, surrounded by nothing more than dead barren land and lava and wide open space. . .The ash-like quality of the air hits me, and the heat is a constant reminder of where I am, but. . .It's hotter than before. In the cave, the heat had been dulled, probably due to the fact that we weren't right beside a river, but now. . .The temperature is nearly unbearable. . .  
  
Link. Were's Link?  
  
I look all about me, finding him just to my right. It gave me a bit of a start as I hadn't noticed him there at first. . .  
  
Holy. . .Farore, is he alright?  
  
I move over towards him, dragging my body across the rocky ground, ignoring the pain in my body.That doesn't matter right now, what does is if Link is alright. . .I stare down at his face. . .He looks rather thin, his drawn somewhat tight over his face. . .There are bags under his eyes. . .  
  
Damn, is he thin. . .  
  
I had assumed that some time had passed since I was last awake, but. . .How little has he been eating? How long have I been unconscious? Are we out of supplies?  
  
Looking at his figure is not relieveing my suspicions any. . .  
  
I lay a hand on his shoulder, relieved when I feel his faint breathing. I put on a tense smile, biting my lip without even really knowing. He's at least alive, though I knew that already - he's got too much color to be dead - but that does not answer any of my questions.  
  
And so I start shaking him as quickly as my tired muscles will allow.  
  
"Link, wake up!" His eyes snap open, blank and blurry with the afterglow of dreams dancing across them, but they soon focus, and he jumps to his feet. Well, stumbles quickly to his feet would be more accurate. As soon as he gains his balance, one hand goes behind him, reaching up for the hilt of his new sword while his eyes scans the area.  
  
Slowly, he calms down, and lowers his hand. His glance happens upon me, and he visibly relaxes, letting his shoulders sag a little as he lets loose a long, tired breath. He kneels next to me, and then plops the rest of the way down, crossing one leg beneath the other.  
  
"Thank Farore you're awake, Sheik," he says, putting a hand on my shoulder, "You had me worried there, for a while."  
  
"You. . .you don't look to good. . ." I begin, and a frown forms on his face, "What's happened?"  
  
"You've been out for a good while," he mumbles, running a hand through his sweaty hair, looking almost like he wants to avoid the topic.  
  
I won't let him.  
  
"Link?" I ask, "What's left of our supplies? Where are we?"  
  
"We've got enough to get us to where I . . . Where I'm going. . .But, I should be fine. I'll give you what's left, and you could probably make it back to the fortress. . .I'm sorry for dragging you into this and-"  
  
I raise a hand and slap him on the back of the head, causing him to pause. He looks at me curiously, and I frown, giving him a light glare.  
  
"No one told me to follow you. I helped you thus far because you warned me about Tyrael entering the fortress. I can't go back, anyway, Tyrael would recognize me, and I don't think he'd let my thieving go unpunished. So, where else do I have to go? I might as well follow you, there's got to be another way out of Hell, right?"  
  
He looks away from me, down at the ground, "Sheik, I don't think you understand. I used to fight these fights when I was a bit-" he seemed to hesitate on the word slightly, which caught my attention and held it well, "-younger, and I'm lucky to be alive today. But despite my luck before, I can't guarantee I'll last three seconds this Time around. . ."  
  
"Link, you don't take me, and I'll follow you," I smile briefly, my emotions carefully hidden behind my cowl, "I've got no where else to go, and you'll have a better chance with me around." My smile fades as I see a slight smirk work its way on to his face. His expression is both somehow happy and yet sad and knowing. . .Depressed and yet glad.  
  
"Trust me, the guys who I'm hunting down are far different than anything you've ever fought. . ."  
  
"Either way, I'm coming with you," I say, wondering now more than ever about my companion, "There's nothing you can do or say to make me go back. To go back alone at this point would be a horrible decision, besides, I don't think Tyrael will be happy to see me."  
  
"You do realize that even if we do survive," his eyes darken slightly at those words, "we'll probably starve to death on the way back, right?" I nod, and he copies my movement, tilting his head upwards slightly to reveal tired eyes. I have no idea what came over mewhen I told Link I would come with him, but, it just seemed like the right decision. I'm in no condition to go back by myself, anyway and. . .  
  
To take away all the supplies from Link would be rather cruel. . .  
  
He suddenly thrusts a ration into my hand, and takes one for himself. I bite into the thing, surprised at how hungry I am. . .He seems just as hungry as I, and once more I wonder how much time has passed since that wraith attacked me. . .I have a sinking feeling that  
  
those were the last of the rations, and when Link passes me the frightfully light canteen, I drink as little as I can, ignoring my thirst. I hand him what's left, and he drinks too.  
  
I know that when he puts the cap back on it, that it's empty. . .  
  
"Can you walk?" he suddenly asks me, looking up, "no, wait, I'll carry you," I open my mouth to argue, a slight blush appearing at his offer to carry me. I can walk, and I'll be damned if I let someone carry me. But before I can get the words out of my mouth, he interrupts me, "Come on, on to my back." He moves closer to me and turns around, as if offering me a way to climb up. I push him away.  
  
. . .weakly. . .  
  
"I can walk-"  
  
"But we'll move faster this way, and besides, you still aren't fully healed," he moves closer to me again, and with a sigh, I grab his shoulders. He stands up slowly, pulling me up on to his right shoulder. I lay slumped over it, my stomach pressing somewhat uncomfortably into his collar, but he seems to notice this too, and shifts me slightly.  
  
Goddesses. . .This is. . .embarassing. . .  
  
What bothers me most though, is that as he straightens he falters, almost dropping me. I frown and ask him, "Are you sure you're up to this?" He's worrying me now. I understand that carrying a full grown Sheikah like this would be hard on someone, but. . .He's breathing heavy, and this angle is showing me things I couldn't see before. He looks absolutely exhausted, dead on his feet. . .He bends down slowly, picking up my bag of stolen goods, which I notice is the only bag around. . .His pack is no where in sight. . .  
  
Maybe he stuffed all the supplies into it.  
  
"Yeah, just fine," he mumbles. With a grunt, he hoists the bag up on to his other shoulder, sighing deeply with exhaustion. I am about to say something, but suddenly he starts off at a fair jogging pace. I listen to his harsh breathing, feeling his unstable step. . .  
  
Just how little of the supplies are left?  
  
I lay on his shoulder in silence, taking in what I see around me. This place. . .the area we're in is nothing more than a narrow ledge of rock surrounded by lava, branching off occasionally. Actually, now that I look closer, I can see that the stone beneath us. . .It's been cut and designed, like a bridge. . .The craftsmanship of it has long since worn down, but I can still see it, the path at our feet. . .  
  
And up in the distance looms a black fortress. . .  
  
It's thorny and ominous in its appearance, pitch black and twisted. It's huge, rising at least five hundred feet out of the ground. The path leads right up to this place, running under a dark archway, plagued by the depictions of demons and monsters. . .  
  
"Where are we?" I ask warily, my eyes glancing about.  
  
"We're. . .This is the Chaos Sanctuary," Link says, motioning with a wave of his hand, "And the place I've been seeking."  
  
I stare in silence at the hall that Link carries me into, unable to drag my eyes away from the dusty floors, the cobweb infested ceilings, and the hundreds of aging skulls that litter the sides. This place, though reeking of hatred and terror, is a work of art. Dark art, but a masterpiece nonetheless. Every inch of the walls is etched, no one area is just flat wall. . .  
  
Link continues forward, not seeming to really care about the scenery much. He takes me down the hall, still moving at a joggingpace. Occasionally, the hall branches off, but he doesn't pay any attention to these side paths, just continuing to head straight. I watch the carvings pass by, having the near incontrollable urge to touch them, see if the walls really are made of bone. . .  
  
Suddenly the hall widens into a pentagonal room, huge beyond understanding. The roof enlarges too, into cathedral like ceilings, that same remarkable level of quality continuing even to that height. In the center there seems to be a design in the ground, but I can't properly see from here. . .  
  
It is now that I draw my eyes away from the dark beauty of this room, and take a better look. There are bones strewn about the room in unbelieveable proportions. . .Not just human skulls, like those that lined the halls before, but of all shapes and sizes. . .Piles of ashes also cover the ground, as if something were cremated on the spot. . .  
  
Link slides me off his back, dropping as well the bag of stolen goods in a well concealed corner. "Stay here," he tells me, seemingoverly wary of something unseen. I shrug off his fears and wait for him to turn his back on me before I try to get up. It's harder than I expected, but. . .I manage just fine, forcing my knees to lock.  
  
I follow behind Link, watching as he studies the room so intently. . .Is this to be our battleground, or will there even be a battle? He seems to know every nook and cranny of this place, unmindful of all the skeletons laying about. . .  
  
"Did you do all this?" I ask, surprised that I've spoken. I didn't even know I had the words formed in my mind. . .  
  
"Yeah," I can just hear him mutter, as he turns around, "It was a long Time ago. Sit down, I've probably got to reactivate the seals, and-"  
  
"The seals?" I ask, and he turns away from me again, "What seals?" I frown lightly, suddenly unsure of myself. Link caused all this death to these monsters and demons. . .So many. . .And yet, I beat him at the Fortress? How would that work? I doubt all these creatures were easy to fight, and that they fought him one at a time, so. . .  
  
Was he going easy on me?  
  
No. . .He knew that I'd kill him. . .Although I didn't, but that's beyond the point.  
  
So, how was I able to beat him?  
  
No weakling could have done this.  
  
"Sheik," I hear him again, but this time he doesn't bother to face me, "Go and sit down already, damnit. You're injured-"  
  
"I'm perfectly fine," I say, crossing my arms before me defiantly, "I can fight, Link. I won't just sit around and watch you duel with some. . .beast. I will be fine, I'm mostly healed, anyway."  
  
He sighs, as if hearing truth in my words. There is no further argument from him as I follow, and now he leads me right into the center. I was right, there is a design here. It's a iron star shaped platform suspended over a pit of burning hot lava. The top point of the star faces the direction from which we came, giving it a whole upside down look to it, as normally that tip would face opposite to the entrance. Little metal bolts trance the outline of the star, giving it a very war-ish look.  
  
"It's a demonic symbol," Link states, as if knowing my question, "It means the Devil, or something like that," he shrugs, turning around. He now stands in the middle of that iron star, looking back at me, "It took me a while to find that out. . ."  
  
"So. . .what now?" I ask, interested but not amused by this place. Sure, it raises many questions about my companion, but it shows no sign of occupation. . .There of course could be something beyond this, as there is a hall in each direction, including the one we came from. Surely one of them would lead somewhere important?  
  
This room seems more like a reception hall. . .  
  
"I don't know," my half Sheikah companion mutters, sounding strangely distant, "Something's not right. . .Someone's here. . ." He whips around, as if trying to spot something behind him, but nothing's there.  
  
"Well, of course someone's here," a strange new voice states. It sounds really bizarre; it's deep and commanding reminding me of a general's voice, yet at the same time it's got a sneaky, hissing quality, like a snake's. We both turn about to face this new being, and I know that I am shocked at what I see. A man stands before us, though taller than anyone I have ever seen. He is dressed in a dark brown robe, stained at the hem with blood.  
  
But this is no man.  
  
While I may not be able to see under that hood, I can see his hands well enough. They are angled so that the thumbs touch, as well as the tips of the fingers, forming a spade like triangle in-between them. This very motion in itself seems very diplomatic, as does the way he hunches slightly, towering over me (I'm the tallest between me and Link) by a good foot.  
  
"I live here now," the voice says, sounding rather amused, "Though, I am quite sure you met the previous occupant, right, Link?" Then, one hand, scrawny thing that it is, reaches up to the hood, it's grease colored skin gleaming in the light of the lava. The hood comes down, showing a disgusting thing, the likes of which I've never seen before.  
  
The man before us is covered in bandages much like my own, though these are old and decaying, plastering on to his face. . .His skin is long into the process of decaying, dark black rings circle his eyes, which are sunken. Tentacles emerge from the top and sides of his head, thick and heavy looking, disappearing into the back of the robe.  
  
"You. . .I thought you-" I turn to face Link, who is looking at this figure with a level of hate that I've never seen before in anyone. His eyes are narrowed, his hand is reaching up for his blade. . .  
  
"You forgot about me," the figure replies tersely, pausing before he continues again in his diplomatic tone, "I had hoped you would." I turn to face this being again, and I swear that I can see his sunken eyes glimmer gold for one brief moment, "You were so naive back then, I couldn't speak with you. . ." I take a step back, so that I can see the expressions on both their faces. Link's anger has relented slightly, and now he looks more deep in thought, while this being looks smug.  
  
"How did you-?" Link asks, sounding slightly confused. The being chuckles.  
  
"Ah, dear Marius had my Soul Stone, and it took me a long time to track him down. I found it, and went into hiding. . .Tyrael searched for me for some time, as his dear delivery boy never arrived in Hell," the being's smile increases, looking sick and twisted on his face, "Tyrael eventually gave up his search, and I have resided in here, ever since. I've been waiting for you."  
  
"Baal, what are you planning?" Link asks, trying to sound angry, but I don't like his tone. . .It sounds more lost, than furious. . .Link moves his hand towards the hilt of his new sword, looking ready to draw it. This 'Baal' just laughs.  
  
"Oh, stop that. I simply wish to speak to you, I want no quarrel," surprisingly enough, Link lowers his hand back down to his side, that look of thought again forming on his face, "That's better. That is exactly why I couldn't talk to you then. . .You were so hasty, so naive. . ." Baal seems almost to muse for a moment, cupping it's chin in one skeletal hand, "Indeed. Too eager. You wouldn't have understood. . .Even after all this time has passed, you still don't. . ."  
  
My curiousity and worry turns to horror as I realize that Link isn't falling into deep thought, his eyes are. . .emptying. . .  
  
"The possiblities. . .You can't even begin to grasp them, even begin to fathom the plethora of knowledge and power that await you. . ."   
  
A tiny bit of life comes back to Link's eyes, but it's not enough. He shakes his head, as if trying to clear it, "Nnn. . ."  
  
"You know as well as I do that it is the correct choice. . .The only choice. Don't fight it. . ." A haze is settling over Link's eyes, and for the second time since I met him, Link is obviously falling into some kind of trance. . .But maybe this time I can do something, "You and I, together, united, we could-"  
  
Knowing that this Baal would not listen to anywords I have to say, I instead reach for one of my throwing knives. My fingers grip its small hilt deftly, and I flick it out, into my hand, and let it fly! It zips through the air, hitting into this being's shoulder. It's diplomatic manipulations are cut short by it's cry of pain (more of a sound of annoyance, really). It stops and glares at me, seeming to forget about the dagger in its arm.  
  
"How dare you interrupt me, mortal fool!" Baal shouts, "I should have destroyed you when you first set foot into this room!" I hear his words but I'm not looking at him. I am the only one of us (Baal is still glaring at me as he shouts) that can see that Link's eyes are clearing up, "Prehaps even your friend will be willing too. . ." Link blinks, a frown forming on his face, like he's trying to remember. .   
  
Or think. . .  
  
"Sheik?" he mumbles, sounding like a man who has just woken from a long sleep. While I am glad that he's 'waking up', he's managed to draw Baal's attention to him by speaking, "Baal?" he asks, staring long and hard a the demon. He raises a hand and rubs at his eyes, apparently still trying to come out of his stupor.  
  
Baal glances angrily at Link, and then shifts his gaze to me, "You meddling fool! You WILL pay!" He says in a harsh whisper, raising a hand. At first I simply arch an eyebrow at his movements, but I soon see what he plans. An ice blue sphere fades into existence before his hand, gaining depth as the second passes. Time slows, and I can only watch with wide eyes as the orb is shot at me. . .  
  
It isn't magic, however, that smashes into me.  
  
Darkness swallows everything. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I pull back from the dark recesses of my mind, ignoring the inviting whispers that dance seductively through my mind. I come back to reality so slowly that I'm not even sure I'm awake. Everything feels thick and heavy, like underwater. . .My vision clears to reveal to figures, one in white and blue, the other dark. . .  
  
"Sheik?" I struggle, blinking furiously, ". . .Baal?"  
  
I hear some mumbling. . .I can't quiet make it out. . .I dig the heels of my palms into my eyes, trying to rub away that mist. . .I open my eyes again to see Baal with one hand raised, aimed at Sheik, his bright crimson eyes wide with fear. An orb forms, and shoots through the air, traveling straight at the surprised Sheikah.  
  
Without a second thought I am running, faster than I've ever moved before, heading towards Sheik. I seem to fly through the air, like a bullet, racing with the orb. . .I don't have Time to reach him, so instead I do the next best thing I can. . .  
  
I jump in-between him and the orb.  
  
A cold blast hits me square in the chest, and I gasp with the pain that floods through me, the rippling impact not only freezing my skin but sending shockwaves of pain throughout my frame. I fly back, the momentum pushing me away. I hit into something, hard.  
  
Sheik. . .  
  
There's the sudden feeling of falling and. . .light headedness, and my world explodes into an abyss of red waves and swirls. . .  
  
. . .A portal? . . .  
  
Within moments, the red waves fade, and I materialize in mid air (as usual, damn freaken things) and drop-  
  
Into freezing cold water. . .  
  
The smell of salt fills my nose as waves of water embrace me. My eyes sting as I am engulfed, and I force myself to hold any breath I may have had left in me. I struggle (a bit hard, seeing as how my body is feeling a bit numb already) trying to go up for air. . .But then I ask myself one important question.  
  
Where's Sheik?  
  
Something brushes my back, and I turn around, and stare deeper into the depths of the ocean (it's salt water, so it doesn't take a genius to guess) and there floats Sheik. . .drifting deeper. His eyes are closed, and I watch as his hair flows around his face, as if by their own violation. . .  
  
He must be unconscous. . .I did hit into him rather hard. . .And he was injured to begin with. . .  
  
I reach for his hand and with some strange luck I manage to grab it, trying to pull him up towards me. I partially succeed, but of course, I end up drifting towards him as well. . .  
  
My legs are becoming so very numb. . .I don't have a chance to swim to the surface, I never was a good swimmer. . .So instead I move behind him, and I push him upward as hard as I can. . .I just hope he'll reach the surface. . .  
  
Already my lungs are burning, and I know now that I'm doomed. . .  
  
But. . .but I can feel it. . .I'm home. . .Hyrule. . .I'm home. . .  
  
Time slows for me, wrapping around me in gentle waves. . .I watch with a detached mind as the shape of Sheik drifts upwards, creating shadows in the light to fall on me. . .I witness the rippling of the waves. . .The way they reflect that precious light in beautiful shafts, the light that's leaving me now. . .The water around me is starting to get dark. . .  
  
Normally I'd be afraid of the dark water (I always had this bizarre fear of black water, which only worsened after the Water Temple incident), but I can't seem to find it in me to even be worried. . .Peace washes over me, and I don't feel so cold anymore. . .  
  
My mind is the last thing in the darkness, and suddenly, that's gone too. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N : A lot has happened over the last two chapters, whether you realize it, or not. The Hellplague is actually very important, but it comes in more during Act II. As does the Master Sword.  
  
I give all credit to Soda for the white markings under Sheik's eyes. She earlier gave me permission (which I still have the email for) to use such a thing, in exchange that I would give her the proper level of recognition.  
  
Uh. . .I know that Baal is really pale in color, but. . .Well, in the red lighting of Hell, he'd appear more orangey. . .and kinda greasy, seeing he looks so damn clammy. . . 


	37. Chapter XXXVI Water

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXVI - Water  
  
~*~  
  
Warm. . .In an endless abyss. . .I seem to drift endlessly. . .There's something wrong, though. My lungs burn, and I feel numb, but. . .  
  
What could be wrong?  
  
Something jerks me, suddenly, bringing me to a slightly higher state of semi consciousness. . .My mind works fervently through its strange haze as my body suddenly goes cold, and I can feel myself moving upwards. . .  
  
What's going on?  
  
Rough hands grab me, and haul me up. . .I notice now that I can hear the sound of waves. . .Voices. . .I'm moving upward now, pulled by those rough hands. . .  
  
There's solid ground beneath me again, and I ease open my stinging eyes with a wince. Someone wraps a blanket around me. . .I can smell salt in the air, and there's the sound of gulls far off. . .  
  
Someone's pressing on my chest hard, and I start to cough. Harsh ragged sounds rip their way from my throat, and I weakly try to raise my hand to stop it. I fail, miserably, and suddenly someone's pulling me upright, patting me hard on the back. . .  
  
My vision finally starts to fade in, revealing to me the wooden floor that I stare at so hard, still coughing. There's another few slaps to my back as the last of the water comes up from my lungs, and once again in control of myself, I look up at the other person.  
  
He's a large burly man, with a huge barrel chest. Though his legs a far bigger than mine, they look tiny compared to the rest of his body. He wears odd clothing. . .A white shirt with red stripes, and blue pants, with brown shoes. He has much facial hair, almost a disturbing amount. A small olive green hat sits awkwardly on his head, stained with years of grease and grime.  
  
Despite my confusion, I manage to rise shakily to my feet, pulling my cowl high up over my nose, so that only my upper cheeks and eyes are visible. I put on my best glare, trying to ignore the fact that my throat feels like it's on fire and despite the warm blanket wrapped around me I'm all of three seconds away from shivering.  
  
The man gives a bit of a surprised look at my actions, but warms back again into a smile, "Ar, lad, ya best lay down. We just dragged ya out minutes ago!"   
  
I stare at him hard for a second, trying to understand exactly what he's speaking of. A moment later, my eyes go wide and I whip around, ignoring the blanket that sails off my shoulders when I run towards the railing.  
  
My hands hit hard into the wood - eroded slightly from years worth of abuse from the wind and water - and peer over the side.  
  
Far down below, the waters crash against the bow.  
  
The ocean. . .? It's obvious by the strong smell of salt that lingers in the air, and telling by the crisp wind, this boat is in a northern sea, but. . .  
  
Weren't Link and I in Hell?  
  
And where is he?  
  
I rapidly search the waves with my gaze, hoping desperately for any sign of my companion. . .  
  
Nothing. . .  
  
I swiftly turn around to face my rescuer, trying to look as steady and determined as I feel, but my legs don't want to co-operate. They shake, then buckle, and I am surprised that the burly man can move fast enough to catch me by the arm.  
  
He helps me regain my balance, but I can't, my legs feel like jelly. So, instead, he leads me to the railing to use as support, wrapping that blanket again around me. I look at him feeling weak and useless, two things that I definitely do not like.  
  
"Was. . ." I clear my throat harshly, trying to get rid of the salty taste, "Was there anyone else?"  
  
He lowers his head and shakes it slightly, as if in shame. I turn away from him, facing the sea. My gaze turns into a frown as I stare out at the waves, more than half hoping that I'll see his body there. . .And that it wouldn't be too late to save him.  
  
What happened?  
  
"Come on, lad," the man says again from behind me, "Ya betta get some rest. I dinna ta see ya get sick on me. We'll be back in port tomorra', and maybe ya can find a ship going where ya heading." he says in a sickeningly reassuring voice, but I can't drag my eyes off the sea. . .  
  
Had Baal killed Link? Or was he drowning in the ocean right now?  
  
~*~  
  
There is the unending sound of waves crashing in this abyss, echoing through my mind. I am surrounded by nothing more than blackness, other than that one solitary sound which reverberates in my skull and seems to fill my entire head, lulling me into a deeper sleep. . .  
  
No. . .That wasn't quite true. . .There were other sounds, and some feelings too. . .I somehow managed to find the strength to flex my fingers, and I felt what could only be fine grains of sand under my hand. . .  
  
I am cold. Numb.  
  
Exhausted. . .  
  
Something thick climbs up my legs, traveling to my knees before falling back again. While it is warm, the air that hits me after that isn't. I feel a shudder run up my spine at the sudden cold, not having the strength to move. Again, the thick substance (water?) crashes against me, fighting off the cool, before the air hits me again. . .  
  
The sea. . .  
  
Maybe I should just let it drag me back?  
  
The sea. . .It's warmer than the air. . .  
  
I want to move back into that warmth, but I do not have the strength. . .I can only lay there, on my chest on the sand. . .My head tilted to the side so that my cheek rests on its side. My hands lay palm down, bent at the elbow, not quite parallel to my head.  
  
So cold. . .  
  
I just want to fall back asleep. . .to forget about the chill. . .  
  
I begin to drift off again, never really having come even semi aware. Darkness surrounds me, and I invite it to take me, but suddenly. . .  
  
Something sharp just poked me, right in the side of my ribs. . .  
  
And I can't help but twitch at the pain. . .  
  
"Ah! Suzy, it's alive! Go get mum, I'll hold it off!"   
  
Another sharp poke.  
  
I groan. . .  
  
Another voice soon comes, but I can't make out what it says. . .  
  
That bottomless blackness has finally accepted me, and I fall into it willingly. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I stand at the bow of the ship again, wrapped once more in a blanket to keep out the cold. I had to, lest the Captain (the man who I first talked to, and apparently the one who dragged me out as well) drag me back to the cabins again.  
  
Shortly after I told him of my missing friend, as he was taking me to my resting quarters earlier, I started to get drowsy. . .It was understandable, he said, I had just managed to avoid drowning. . .  
  
When I woke up, I was indeed feeling much better.  
  
They told me that they were fishermen, and that they had caught me in the nets. Wondering what the heavy weight was (probably thinking it was a huge fish) they hauled me up, startled to see me, unconscious and half drowned.  
  
And now, after several hours of rest, I stand once more at the bow, staring out at the bleak scenery. The sky is cloudy, a deep ominous gray that foretells trouble. Indeed, I can feel it in the air. . .Something is happening in this land, something not right. . .  
  
The cold wind blows, but I ignore it, more interested with the horizon. There, in the distance I can make out an island. It's not too large, as it is fast approaching and mostly covered by buildings. There's a tall watch tower. . .No, wait, that's not a watchtower, it's a lighthouse. On a cape in the southwestern corner is another large building, but with no visible importance, other than it's side.  
  
The rest of the island is mostly covered by residential buildings, save for a open area between the cape and. . .I squint. . .and the docks.  
  
Very small harbor they have. . .How on earth are we supposed to dock a ship of this size?  
  
I sigh, letting my vision drop. There was no point of me wondering on it, instead I would leave it in the hands of the professionals; people who knew what they were doing, and knew how to do it.  
  
I part my bangs, which have fallen into one mess before my eyes. Hm, I thought I knew what I was doing when I told Link that I would help him, but obviously, I was defeated before the first blow even befell me. I was probably unconscious for whatever battle took place, making me nothing more than dead weight for Link to look after. . .  
  
I frown. . .  
  
Maybe. . .Maybe he didn't drown. Maybe I was the only one who feel into whatever warp there was, and he's still back there, fighting that Baal. . .  
  
. . .That's not a very reassuring thought. . .  
  
Baal is just. . .He reeks of malice and anger. . .I somehow associate the word 'destruction' with him, but I do not know why. I can, though, indeed imagine him demolishing towns and killing innocents. . .  
  
And whatever it he tried to do to Link. . .I can only fear that he would try it again. . .  
  
Would it be better for Link to die at sea, or in the clutches of that obviously foul being. . . Something that seems to have once been a man. . .Something so. . .evil. . .  
  
I do not know. . .  
  
I'd prefer neither. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: This is gonna be the Hyrule from Windwaker, so yeah, there'll be a bit of damage. . .Not too much, though.  
  
I 'forgot' to mention one of the Prime Evils. Baal. A short background on him:  
  
Baal is a Prime Evil of considerable strength, known as the Lord of Destruction. The Horadrim (not too important, ancient race of sorts) managed to capture him and defeat him, and with the Arch Angel Tyrael's knowledge and help, they used the body of one of their own to seal Baal. The Soul Stone was thrust into Tal Rasha's chest, the mortal who believe he was strong enough to stand up against Baal's destructive influence.  
  
Tal Rasha was sealed in a tomb, where Baal slowly corrupted his mind and twisted his body. Eventually, the human who Diablo, the Lord of Terror, began taking over managed his way there, followed closely by Marius, a normal person. Diablo tried to free Tal Rasha, but was stopped by Tyrael. A fight ensued, and as Tyrael was distracted. . .Marius was tricked by Baal to come and free Tal Rasha's body.  
  
Once out of his little prison (much like Link's prison) Baal interrupted the fight, adding Diablo. Tyrael could not defeat the two of them, and was sealed in the tomb as they left, waiting to be found by the Hero (whoever you play the game through as).  
  
I found an okay picture of him, as well as a good Mephisto.  
  
Baal - darkness.diabloii.net/beastiary/bosses/baal/  
  
Mephisto - diabloii.net/screenshots/fan_art/031230-feowen.shtml  
  
P.S - Sorry if the accents suck, but I gotta learn sometime. . . 


	38. Chapter XXXVII Shoreline

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXVII - Shoreline  
  
~*~  
  
". . .-lucky to be alive. . ."  
  
". . .survive?"  
  
"Maybe. . ."  
  
". . .port. . .-ater. . .dead. . ."  
  
[wha?] From some deep abyss in my mind, I strain my ears to try and make some sense out of the seemingly random words. . .But they only seem to blur more. . .I am vaguely aware of a pounding ache in my head, a terrible weakness in my body. . .Like heavy weights are tied to my limbs. . .  
  
/Never mind. . .Sleep.\  
  
I start mentally at the voice. . .It's not one of mine. . .I try furiously to open my eyes, but I don't manage to even twitch. . .I feel so numb. . .almost detached from my body. . .  
  
[What? Who are you?] Blackness calls for me, but I refuse to fall into it. . .  
  
/Does it matter?\ the voice emitted a sound that resembled a strange snickering noise, /Just sleep, damnit.\  
  
[Not till I. . .] My mind's starting to fade out. . .to fall asleep, but I force myself to concentrate, to focus on staying awake. . .and getting answers, [. . know who you are. . .]  
  
/And I ask again, 'does it matter'? Just get some rest.\  
  
[Of. . .of course it matters. . .] I think weakly, trying to regain a proper hold on consciousness , [You. . .you aren't supposed to be in here. . .]  
  
/Oh. And that Malon chick is?\ The voice suddenly breaks out into hoarse, braying laughter, the sound splitting through my mind, tearing at it like some wild beast. . .I try to argue, to press on with my curiosity, but I can't. My limbs feel numb and heavy, my eyelids dead weights upon my face. With blackness all around me, and no energy left, I succumb to the nagging urge of sleep. . .  
  
~*~  
  
The boat docks incredibly slowly, making it seem to take eons just to reach our 'dock'. It's not really a harbor, as this ship is far to large to join the smaller boats. Instead, the captain has skillfully maneuvered the ship behind the island, where the land turns rocky and cliff-like, standing up a good fifteen to twenty feet from the churning waves below..  
  
The perfect height for this vessel.  
  
The planks are laid down, and soon the crew members are hopping off on to the land, trotting right on through into the streets of the town. They all look relatively the same. . .All sailors, dressed in similar striped clothing, though the color sometimes differs. . .All well built and proud, striding stupidily across the planks. . .Looking as if they are going to fall any minute.  
  
Large buildings loom, many two or three stories in height, all built of stone, usually white or a yellowish. Most look rather average, but I can see one or two fancier houses - most likely the abodes of richer people. Most are small, some even tiny. . .Either way, it is a nice setting.  
  
The town itself is rather small for the most part, consisting of only a few streets lined with buildings. The temperature is good - if just a bit chilly - and the grass is green. Overall, this places has a bright feeling of. . .joy surrounding it, but it seems as if a dark cloud hangs over the island and its people. I can see nothing physically wrong, but. . .  
  
"'Ey, lad!" A deep voice pulls me from my thoughts, destroying my frown and replacing it instead with a look of mild surprise, "Hurry up! Gonna freeze if ya stay out 'ere too long. . ." The burly man from before jumps off the ship, a large rope coiled around his arm.  
  
Captain John is his name (or so he told me). A bit of a strange name, though by all rights it seems normal for this area, from what they tell me. I suppose that if they heard my name they would think me strange. . .  
  
Not that they don't already. Most of them kept their eyes on me for most of the voyage, being extremely cautious of me. And why shouldn't they? My face is masked, and I refused to remove my guise. Maybe not the most intelligent move, but I don't regret it. My clothing is also strange to them, it's religious fashions foreign and bizarre. I recieved many suspicious stares, but I ignored them all - as I do now.  
  
They pose no threat to me. . .  
  
I follow along the same way the Captain did, hopping up onto the planks, one hand still holding my blanket where it is, hanging down around my shoulders. I have long since dried, but the wind is cold and my clothes are not of the sea faring kind. In fact, my clothes are probably best for anything BUT the sea, as the chill wind seems to somehow find its way through the folds, freezing my bones.  
  
The boards creak under my feet, and I take in the smell of dusty streets and bustling people. It's not a smell I necessarily like, but I have never been fond of the sea. I can see people milling about, standing before market stalls, shouting as they reach for the items they want.  
  
Typical of a bazaar.  
  
Captain John waits for me on the rocky cliffs of the shore, and once my feet touch the soft grass, he turns about, leading me into the streets. Although, before we can get more than a few feet a woman (seemingly mad) runs out from the crowd, dressed in a long brown dress with a lacy design about her collar, a shawl over her head. She's at least thirty by the looks of it, and the gaze in her eyes bares her panic out to the world.  
  
"Captn' John!" she shouts, running over to us, "Captn' John!!" She stops before us, huffing and puffing, "Captn' John. . ." she repeats, her breath coming heavy. She looks up at him once her lungs fill again slightly, sparing me a quick glance (during which she frowned, I notice), "We found someone."   
  
"Who?" he asks, "And where? If it 'ere the Mightar twins again I'll-"  
  
"No," she replies, "We found 'im in the sea. Half drowned, he was."  
  
Curiosity blankets itself over me in a heavy wave, and I can feel worry gnaw at my heart, "What did he look like?" I ask, and she turns towards me again, giving me a look that tells me I've been rude. My brow furrows, but she talks anyway.  
  
"Aye, 'e looks a bit like ya, 'cept his skin be light. And e' ain't wearing that. . .thing ya do." She comments, her hands on her hips. She looks like she's about to go on, but I interrupt her - again - my eyes wide with hope.  
  
"Where? Where did you find him?" I ask, and she sighs, pointing down through the streets.  
  
"Down, over there. By the cape, on the shore." I quickly thank her and run in that direction, through the streets, which are relatively bare. I sprint through the town, finding it even smaller than I originally thought. It takes only mere seconds before I reach the opposite side, where the stone walkways fade into a path surrounded by bright green grass.  
  
I see the cape now, and I look quickly to my left - the harbor. This couldn't bee the shore she was talking about, as the area around the one dock (tiny harbor) drops into the ocean with a slight ledge. Not a shore.  
  
However on the other side. . .  
  
I run that way, pressing my strained muscles even further. They are still stiff from the cold water, despite hours of drying and relaxing, but I don't care. One hand still holds my blanket over me as the chill of the wind is coming back.  
  
But I don't care.  
  
I have to pass a large tree and head over a slight hill before the shore reveals itself to me. There, the grass suddenly shifts from green to the pale yellow of sand, stretching only for several metres before the land suddenly shifts to cliffs again - both on the edge of the town and by the tip of the cape.  
  
The stretch of sand is surprisingly bland and placid, the color broken only by the three figures I can see.  
  
I sprint over.  
  
Two small kids hover over the figure of a larger person, who lays on his (it's definitely a male) stomach, face first into the sand. I move over there, quickly, and I stoop next to him, turning him over.  
  
The unconscious face of Link greets me.  
  
The very sight horrifies me. . .Goddesses. . .His lips are tinged and unnatural blue, his skin pale and cold, his body stiff, his eyes tightly screwed shut. . .With a growing feeling of terror, I place my hand at his neck, feeling for a pulse. . .  
  
It's there, good. . .  
  
I take that same hand and place it before his mouth. . .he's breathing too, but. .   
  
I place my hands on his chest, and push.  
  
The sudden action does as I hoped it would, forcing him to cough. Link does, and I do it again. This time, he coughs louder and harder, water forcing itself up from his lungs and flooding up from his mouth. It spills over, trickling down his cheek and down his neck, and I push again.  
  
And again  
  
And again.  
  
With each push his chest heaves disturbingly, the image bothering me heavily.  
  
But I don't stop.  
  
Finally, Link inhales deeply, before letting loose a horrible, wrenching cough. Something in his chest almost seems to rattle about, as if loose. I watch with concern as more water flows out of his mouth, and he rolls over, coughing it up.  
  
His body tenses, shaking with every slight movement, and once all the water is out of him, he slowly droops, again going limp. I frown again, rolling him back on to his back. Whatever consciousness he may have attained during the last minute or so has faded, and he is out like a light. My hand reaches up quickly to his forehead where it catches a bit of a fever, but nothing serious.  
  
At least now he's breathing properly. . .  
  
I sigh, and sit back, watching as the Captain and that old woman from before approach me. The Captain seems surprised to see Link laying there on the beach and I follow his gaze. The blue tinge is already beginning to leave Link's lips, but he shivers with the cold air.  
  
I reach up and grab the blanket off of my back, and lay it over my comrade. It won't do much, but it will help to keep out that wind.  
  
"'E a friend of yours?" John asks, staring at the pitiful sight of Link. My eyes narrow slightly at the word, but I shake it off quickly.  
  
"I was traveling with him." I look off to the side, and spot that sword of his laying on its side. Its white blade sparkles brightly, despite the absence of light on this cloudy day. Even after all that it has gone through, Link's sword does not seem in the least dulled - it doesn't even look wet.  
  
I place my hand around the hilt, shuddering at the sudden feeling of warmth that climbs up throughout my limbs. Its only there for a second, and then it fades. I look down at the blade, curiosity obvious in my eyes.  
  
Did I really feel that. . .?  
  
"E's darn lucky then. Ta be carried all the way 'ere. . ." Slowly, John walks over to Link's still shivering frame, "Come on, gotta get 'em out of 'ere and into my place." He kneels down and scoops up Link into his giant arms, "Come on, boy, ya'd do good by some heat yarself." I find myself nodding dumbly, following behind the brutish man. He leads us to a house - nothing special, just like the one beside it - taking us inside.  
  
Link remains unconscious in his arms, hanging limply. The blanket is still wrapped around him, twisted and gray with the damp. I stare at him, worry still deeply imbedded into my heart, twisting more and more with every second. . .  
  
But. . .why would I care if he dies? He's just another traveler. . .  
  
No. . .I know why. . .I'm still so curious about him. How he knows Baal, why Tyrael is looking for him, his heritage. . .  
  
All perfectly good reasons.  
  
Satisfied with my self-explanations, I watch as John lays Link down in a bed, removing the Elf's wet clothing. I look away to give my companion some dignity, studying instead the solid wooden walls of this building and using the chance to place Link's sword leaning against the wall. The low lighting from a nearby candle lights the wall up with an orangy hue, making it seem very cozy.  
  
There's not much in here: the bed Link is on, a dresser with a candle on top, a rug in the middle of the room (surprisingly plush), and a chest on the far side. I look about lazily, trying to keep my mind off of the situation when a large hand lays itself on to my shoulder. I spin about, facing John.  
  
"E's alright, just a bit sick, is all," he looks about the room, his gaze settling on a window at the far side, ". . .Ya can stay 'ere and look after him, if ya want." His eyes come back to me, and I nod.  
  
"I shall."  
  
"Good, good. . ." John walks out of the room, and I look at the bed. Link lays beneath a thick blanket, a bit of his chest showing with that strange blue stone still on its chain around his neck. The previous attraction it held for me is gone, though it still glows so beautifully. His clothes are tossed on to a nearby chair where they are drying. I sigh, and pull up another chair, sitting at the beside.  
  
His skin is quickly loosing that sickly hue, a thing for which I am greatly happy. He is indeed breathing much better now, and without his wet clothes on he has stopped shivering.  
  
I put on a tense smile, pulling at the ridge of my guise to realign it a little. It was completely soaked when I was pulled from the water, but I only had to ring it out a few times before it was dry enough to wear.  
  
[He's going to be alright, going to be alright. . .]  
  
I shake my head, my gaze settling again on the wall. The room is dead silent, with the exception of Link's heavy breathing, his body still desperately trying to regain the air it lost.  
  
[He'll be alright. . .]  
  
As much as I wish to admit otherwise, I seriously hope so.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N : As for that opening bit, the very first signs of Link's encroaching insanity are appearing! 


	39. Chapter XXXVIII Voyage

Act I : Trial of A Man  
  
Chapter XXXVIII - Voyage  
  
~*~  
  
"No!" I cry weakly, as innumerable hands shove me hard, my bare back hitting against the cool stone, ". . .stop. . ." I am held, securely, as the blur of people before me clears off to each side, leaving a open path before me. . .  
  
If only I could walk down it, and away from all this. . .  
  
The black silhouette of people stand out harshly against the distant wall, which is lit only by a far off orange glow. . .A light that bounces about on the rocks, flickering and twisting. . .  
  
Soon he walks in, glowing in all his divinity. . .I find myself with growing hate in my heart-  
  
[NO! I don't hate him!]  
  
-His wings floating wildly around, twisting and twirling in the air. His very spirituality seems bright enough to light this room, and I find myself squinting in the sudden brightness.  
  
Suddenly, he is there before me, one arm raised. All I am aware off is the darkness that surrounds him, seeming to seem even into my own soul, the cold of the stone against my back and the fear in my heart. In that one hand he holds a small stone, clear in color. . .I don't have the time to gaze at it long, as his hand flies back down towards me, too fast and yet somehow still so slow, and there's nothing I can do.  
  
Pain erupts in my chest, spreading like wildfire. . .I am barely away of the blood seeping down my chest, far more interested in the encroaching darkness and the sudden weight in my limbs. . .The feeling of. . .of 'binding' that suddenly overcomes me. . .  
  
The shadows crowd in. . .And all that is left is the darkness of my own soul. . .  
  
~*~  
  
My eyes snap open with a start, and I take a large gasp of breath. The light assails my eyes, and for one dreadful moment I fear I am again surrounded by Tyrael and his flowing wings, trapped by his divine presence. . .But the moment soon passes as I try my eyes again, finding that instead of being cornered by an Archangel, I am instead alone, in a small room.  
  
The walls are wooden, and the furniture is sparse. . .There's a candle on the other side - on a dresser - that fills the room with a light orange glow, giving it a homey look. Kinda cozy. . .  
  
I raise myself gingerly on one arm, lifting a hand to my forehead. There it meets a bit of sweat and heat. . .  
  
A fever?  
  
What happened?  
  
My arm gives out from beneath me and I fall back to the bed, surprised by its comfortable softness. I relish the feeling of the pillow, the warmth of the blankets. . .My eyes close and I find myself forgetting about the world, my mind falling into a long period of blankness. . .  
  
Where's Sheik?  
  
I open my eyes again, looking about. . .There's no one in the room as far as I can see, but I roll up on to my side, using my own body as a support.  
  
No one. . .I'm all alone. . .  
  
All alone in a foreign place. . .I roll back to my previous position, sighing. I can feel the ache in my body, weariness creeping in like some plague, causing my limbs to be stiff and sore. . .My hands are surprisingly warm, and yet, my fingertips are freezing. . .I test out many of my muscles, glad to see that everything seems to still be intact.  
  
There's a click from the direction of the door, and I turn my head to look. There stands a little girl with bright blond hair falling down her back, a tray held in her tiny hands. She wears a small pale pink dress, and brown shoes.  
  
She must be no more than six years old.  
  
"Mister!" she gasps, startled, and almost drops her tray, "Ya're awake!" Her shocked expression immediately changes to a glad smile, "Yay! I was worried!" She waddles over to me in a childlike manner with her eyes closed and me wondering how much longer before the tray topples over.  
  
Somehow, miraculously, she makes it over without spilling, presenting to me a bowl of soup and a glass of water. I find my mouth instantly salivating at the very sight, my stomach rumbling audibly.  
  
The girl stares for a moment, then giggles at the noise, "See? I told Mamma ya'd be 'ungry!" She giggles again, sounding terribly cute, despite her bizarre accent.  
  
"W. . ." I clear my voice, trying hard to ignore the dryness of it, "W-where am I?"  
  
"Silly! Don't ya 'member? Daddy carried ya in and- oh. . .Yeah, ya were asleepted," she states, nodding at me, "Mamma said ya were sick and that we 'ad ta take good care of ya. Ya're friend stayed 'ere with ya lots, though. He looked after ya the most."  
  
"My friend. . .?"  
  
"Uh. . .Said his name was Shek, or. . ." she frowns, "Shik? Shenk? Shink? Sh-"  
  
"Sheik?"  
  
"Ya! That's it!"  
  
[Sheik. . .?] So. . .he's still alive? Thank the Goddesses. . .A wave of relief begins to wash over me, causing my eyes to again go heavy. Now that I know that he's safe, and that I'm safe. . .I can rest easy. . .I let my head relax back against my pillow, and my eyes begin to close. . .  
  
Before I can even begin to doze off, the girl is shaking my arm, and I turn to see that she has one hand on me, the other holding up the tray like a pro.  
  
"No! Mister, don't go ta sleep! Mamma said ya have ta eat sumpthin' first! Please Mister!"  
  
I try to say something in response, peering at her from behind heavy lids, but all that comes out is a tired groan. I can barely see her eyes go wide in concern, and - laying the tray down on my stomach - she starts backing away.  
  
"Don't worry, Mister! I'll go get Mamma! She'll know how to make you feel better!"  
  
And thus, I am left alone in the room once more. . .  
  
Feeling my stomach again rumble with hunger, and remembering what the girl's mom supposedly said, I force myself to wake up again, the smell of the hot soup only helping to revive me quicker.  
  
Seeing the steaming liquid sitting there, on the wooden tray, I find that I must sit up, lest I choke while trying to eat. I shift around carefully, not really having any space to move the tray to, when suddenly my strength weakens, and I falter. I manage not to drop the tray or spill the soup, but the spoon goes flying off.  
  
I sigh, and roll my eyes. I place the food next to me carefully, and flip on to my side, reaching for that damn spoon. . .  
  
Just as my fingers are about to come in contact with it's dull silver surface, I catch a flash of movement on the spoon itself. In the reflection of the metal appears a distorted picture of white and blue.  
  
"Good to see you awake," Sheik's voice causes me to look up. He walks quickly over to the bed, stooping and picking up the spoon as he nears. He tosses it to me with a quick flick of his wrist, and I barely catch it. At the sight he merely chuckles lightly, taking a seat beside me. I - now with spoon in hand - pull the tray back up on to my stomach.  
  
"What are-" I clear my throat, ". . .What are you laughing about?"  
  
There's a gleam in his eyes as he answers, "Nothing much." At first, I thought that he would continue, talk about something or another as he sat there, beside me. And yet. . .He doesn't say a word. A frown covers his face and he study me, closely, though I do not know why. The piercing red gaze is more than I can endure, and so I turn my head away, instead facing the window which floods with bright light.  
  
"So, uh. . ." I frantically search for a topic, wracking my mind for possibilities, "uh. . .Where are we?" I look back at him, glad to see his unnerving gaze has relaxed.  
  
"We're at a place called Windfall Island," he sighs lightly, running a hand through his bangs, "But I do not know what world we're in. All I could find out from these villagers was that we're on the Great Sea, and that there's trouble down south."  
  
"Trouble? What kinda of trouble?" I arch an eyebrow and take in a spoonful of my soup. Sheik takes his Time, and I take another sip, shifting around uncomfortably around under my blankets. Damn wool is itching skin. I pull up my one arm that was still under the heavy coverings, resting it on the top.   
  
"I'm not sure. . .Some people say some evil has descended on the land, while others. . ." he shrugs, "I've heard arguments about Kings and demons and devils and something about heroes, too. . ." I can see him frown from the corner of my eye, ". . .A believe it was 'a boy in green'. . ."  
  
I have to really try to prevent myself from choking on the soup. Sheik's glance returns to me from the wall, concerned. but I just shrug off his worry, ". . .C-continue, please."  
  
". . .I've heard so much from the markets. Even something about a 'talking' boat." Sheik ignores my incredulous gaze, continuing as if going through some mental list, "Monsters are apparently just about covering the sea in droves, people are worrying about pirates-"  
  
"-If anything, they should be more worried about talking boats," I interrupt, taking another spoonful of my soup. I look up to see Sheik unamused by my interjection, and I apologize.  
  
"Well, the general populace seems to be in a confused uproar, as no one seems to know the facts. Everyone has contradicting stories, and no one is all that willing to tell their opinions. I don't know why, normally people are all too glad to gossip, but it seems like their genuinely worried."  
  
"That's a bit. . .unusual," I mutter, looking back up at Sheik, "Normally people are rather detached, if a bit talkative."  
  
He nods, "I know. Maybe something happened here?. . .Personally, I'd like to know where 'here' is." I agree, frowning as my hand again itches. I absentmindedly put down my spoon, and scratch the back of my left hand.  
  
Damn fucking wool. . .  
  
Sheik's eyes widen, and I can only stare with confusion as his gaze suddenly locks on to my hands. I arch an eyebrow as he quickly moves over to the bedside, pulling my right hand from my left.  
  
"Uh, Sheik, is there something wrong?"  
  
"Mind explaining this to me?" He asks, bringing the back of my hand close to my face in one strong jerking motion.  
  
"Ah! Watch it! I'm not made of rubber," I state, staring at my hands. What possible problem could he have with my hands? "Uh. . .I lost my gloves?"  
  
Sheik rolls his eyes, "No, I mean what's ON your hand. And you didn't lose your gloves, their on the other chair."  
  
I start slightly, realizing that the Triforce symbol is nice and bright on my hand. The symbol itself seems brighter than normal, and around the edges of the Triforce of courage my skin actually glows, "I. . .uh. . .You wouldn't believe it, but, uh. . .Some little gnomes came in here, yeah. Ugly ugly gnomes-" the name Tingle suddenly pops into my head, and I repress a disgusted shiver, "-and they drew on my hand. Yeah. Even had the straight edges and everything."  
  
"I'm not that dense, Link," he sighs, letting go of my hand, "I don't think anyone is. I know what that is-"  
  
"Then why'd ya ask?" He instantly silences me with a glare.  
  
"Do YOU know what that symbol is?" I nod, somewhat slowly, unsure if this is a good topic. He is a Sheikah, after all, and telling by his colorful clothing, they are VERY religious, "Good, we're on the same ground then," he says, and I nod once more, feeling a bit like a little kid, "What I'd like to know is where you go it."  
  
"I. . .You wouldn't take the Gnome answer again, would ya?" I look at him hopefully, and he shakes his head, ". . ." I start thinking about everything that has happened. . .at least, everything I can remember. . .How much or how little do I tell him? Do I just make up something? Or do I tell him the truth? If I did tell him. . .He would have to wonder how I managed to get the Triforce so long ago. . .  
  
He already knows about Baal and what that demon may have said. . .  
  
Funny thing is I don't remember what the Lord of Destruction told me. . .  
  
Maybe I should wait. . .  
  
"Uh. . .Could. . Could I have some Time?" Sheik looks at me curiously, and I continue, "I. . I just don't know how to say it. . ."  
  
There's a long moment of reflective thought, and Sheik doesn't move an inch. He just stares at me, as if judging how sincere I am. I bet he's wondering if I am just trying to shrug this off and hoping that he's going to forget about it.  
  
Finally, he nods slowly, blinking, "Alright." Without another word, he gets up and starts heading to the door.  
  
"Hey! Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm going to try to find us a way off of this island. . ."  
  
I watch him go, a bit displeased with the way that went. I raise the spoon up to my mouth, and taste the soup there.  
  
It's too damn cold. . .  
  
~*~  
  
Link is doing nothing to soothe my curiosity, instead, each day something new happens that peaks my interest even more. I didn't think that it was possible to be that surprised anymore, but Link has again proved me wrong. Multiple times.  
  
With a tinge of anger, I shake my head clear of these thoughts. There are other things to think on now.  
  
As I walk through this market, I immediately notice one thing. Most of the people here are frantic women bidding for the cheapest items they can find. The most popular stand seems to be run by a strange small man in a thick blue jacket with white stuffing, who is assisted by a young girl in rags.  
  
I frown gently. This is definitely an odd place.  
  
We're not anywhere in my world.  
  
I'm heading in the direction where I believe the harbor may be. Maybe there I can find a ship that will take me and Link some where more. . .more. . .  
  
-I suddenly see a flying bird man. . .thing land down almost right beside me, by a red upstanding box. The thing gives me such a fright that it almost invokes my 'Sheikah instinct' which would definitely attract attention.  
  
That's the one bad thing about being able to leap extraordinarily. If you get startled, you can almost clear some buildings.  
  
I sigh, giving the strange being more than enough space. Here, where the grass is visible again is the dock, and I am more than glad to see two burly men standing there, one farther down the dock, the other still on the land. They are both dressed in what seems to be the appointed uniform for sailors - a striped shirt and blue pants - and have the right barrel build. I walk up to the nearest one, trying to ignore the fact that he dwarfs me immensely.  
  
"Sir," I ask, gaining his attention. He gives me a quick look over, as if not believing what he is seeing. I do not wait for him to finish, instead continuing, "Would you be so kind as to tell me if any ships are coming in? My companion and I would like to continue our travels."  
  
He looks at me some more, not answer, when finally, "Ya. Where ya want ta go?"  
  
"I'm afraid that I do not know the outlying areas very well. Could you-?"  
  
"Na problem! We got one ship heading out ta Dragon Roost Island tomorrow, and one heading ta the south east."  
  
"What's in the south east?"  
  
"Not much, just a bunch of little islands."  
  
"Uh," I frown slightly, not sure if I like the sound of this Dragon Roost Island, "Any other places?"  
  
"Well, if ya were ta stick around with that one heading to Dragon Roost, it could also give ya a ride to Outset Island. If ya're interested, just come here tomorra about. . ." he raised a hand to his chin, looking deep in thought, "Come in the afternoon. She should be here by then."  
  
"Thanks," I mutter, not really sure what to do. How are we supposed to get on the ship? I don't have any money to my name, and all the stuff I stole was lost some time during the argument with Baal.  
  
And which ship to go on?  
  
I give the dirt beneath me a light kick, not caring if any one sees me. Maybe I should go back and see Link. He might know what to do. . .  
  
And he may also be ready to talk to me.  
  
I give a general shrug to no one in particular, and start heading back to that kindly lady's house. I have to push my way through hoards of women (and the odd man) to even just catch sight of the building again, and once I am finally inside, I am surprised that no one managed to trample me.  
  
I close the door swiftly but silently, hoping to disturb no one. I walk through the house quickly, down the one hall that will take me to the room where Link is. The people here were nice enough to take us into their home, and still refuse my offers to work off the debt.  
  
Those very actions proved to me that there was still some light in people, however faint.  
  
I again open the door quickly and quietly, wincing as it clicks shut behind me. However, the absence of sound alerts me to something not quite right, and I spin around to see-  
  
Link sleeping. . .  
  
I blink slowly, heading back to my chair from earlier. The soup rests on the other chair now, precariously balanced on top of the folded clothing that lays there. I watch the tray for a brief moment, wondering how on earth it could keep from falling, but when it doesn't topple, I let the thought hang.  
  
Instead, I start thinking about Link.  
  
That symbol on the back of his hand. . .That was the symbol of the Triforce, and it could not just be a tattoo. . .The outer rim of the Triforce of Courage was glowing, as if possessed by some inner light. . .  
  
Did he once have part of the Triforce?  
  
I do not know. . .And how did he lose it? The only way I have ever heard of is through death, and Link is definitely very much alive.  
  
I shift my gaze, trying to get a good look at his hand (was it the right or the left?) but before I can lock my glance, I see his face. Every time I have seen him asleep, there is always one thing that strikes out at me. His tossing, his turning. . .  
  
What could have scared him so deeply as to give him permanent nightmares? His blue eyes are deeply haunted by something, painful thoughts seem to flick back and forth between his eyes when he is awake, and when he sleeps. . .  
  
I wish I could see what it is that has damaged him so. Perhaps then I could understand a bit more about him. . .He somehow manages to be just as mysterious as any Sheikah, and yet he has hidden nothing from my eyes. . .  
  
Resting a hand on my thigh, and leaning forward slightly, I am almost able to doze off when a voice (frighteningly close and yet so far away) suddenly speaks.  
  
/Sheik.\  
  
Needless to say, I start almost immediately, looking around for anyone nearby. How could they have managed to sneak up this close to me? How is that possible? I never let down my guard-  
  
/Come, Sheik, Guar-\  
  
Before the strange disembodied voice can continue, I my eyes happen upon Link's face, only to see his eyes open. Suddenly, the strange voice (did I even hear that? Or was I just half asleep?) stops and vanishes, and once again it is just me and Link alone here.  
  
He wakes up with a slight start I realize, his eyes shifting around the room almost frantically, but once he notices me here, he seems to realize exactly where he is, and relaxes. All but the slightest hints of the panic flee from his eyes, leaving them clear with awareness but tainted by whatever terrors they may have held.  
  
"Sheik," he says, as if in a welcoming manner.  
  
". . ." All I can do is give him a light nod, not sure what to say. He watches my face closely, some old fears seeming to race beneath his gaze, and suddenly his neutral expression changes to a smile.  
  
"So, where did you wander off to?"  
  
"Went to see if I could find us a boat," I reply, thinking my words through carefully, "There are only two coming here anytime soon, and one is basically heading no where. I thought it would be best to catch the other one."  
  
Strangely enough, there seems to be a bit of regret now in his glance, and he looks away, towards the window, ". . .Where's it going?"  
  
"It's going somewhere called Outset Island, apparently, though it first has to make a stopover at another place. Dragon Roost Island, or something like that."  
  
He nods once, his eyes glazing over with thought, "And so. . .Sheik, is this where you come from? Is this world yours?"  
  
"Me?" Did I tell him where I was from before? I cannot remember, but if I didn't. . .I'm sure that it could do no harm, not when in someone like Link's hands, "No. There is no where in my. . .in my 'world' like this. What happened exactly?"  
  
"Baal attacked you, and. . .And I jumped in the way. The blast hit both of us off the ledge of that suspended symbol thing, and into the lava below. Luckily, the whole place was a portal, which took us here." He looks a bit distracted, "I don't really know what happened after that."  
  
I listen with disguised interest, taking in what he is saying. It's most likely true, as it does kind of make sense. . .I wasn't out for too long, and so its not like something completely bizarre could have happened.  
  
Besides, why would Link lie?  
  
I give my head a brief shake, "We'll be leaving at noon tomorrow. Best get some sleep."  
  
He makes a sound of agreement, looking back at me slowly, "And where are you going to be? Where will you sleep tonight?"  
  
"Same place I was last night, just down the hall." I walk out slowly, waiting for some further bit of conversation from him, but Link offers nothing. I sigh as I close the door, walking towards my room. It is already starting to get late, as dusk is steadily approaching, and I find myself anxious for the morning. There seems almost to be something in the air, heavy and dark, and I have no greater wish now then to get out of here before whatever it is comes crashing down.  
  
~*~ 


	40. Chapter XXXIX Sea Beast

Act I - Trial of a Man  
  
Chapter XXXIX - Sea Beast  
  
~*~  
  
I've never really liked the wind.  
  
Especially the sea breeze. Even now that I'm not wet, it bites my skin through the fabric of my clothing like ice, and even my guise does little to keep it out. I shiver only slightly, crossing my arms before me. I hide the gesture of hugging myself for warmth as a sign of impatience instead. The wind plays with my bangs, blowing them all about my face annoyingly.  
  
I sigh.  
  
I hate the wind.  
  
Link, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying it. He's got his arms by his sides, letting the breeze thread itself through his fingers like invisible threads. I don't see why, as he probably can't feel it with those gloves of his on, but whatever. His head is tilted back a little and his eyes are shut, and the wind is also glad to play with his hair, but Link doesn't seem to care.  
  
He seems to enjoy it.  
  
Link opens his eyes, and I hurriedly look towards the ship, hoping that he didn't see me studying him. I don't know why, but I get the strangest feeling that he abhors being judged. . .  
  
"Sheik? Something wrong?"  
  
I look back towards him, "No, nothing. Just thinking," I reply, inwardly cursing Link's ability to get me to talk so much. I'm a Sheikah, I'm supposed to be silent, unmoving, unyielding. . .  
  
Unfeeling.  
  
And yet, in his presence. . .I can almost relax. . .  
  
He nods slowly, as if unbelieving, but the gleam in his eyes doesn't fade. It is the first time since I have met him where there has been any true joy in his eyes. It does not heal the wounds of his mind or even mask them from my sight, but he looks. . .happy. The grin on his face seems almost strange. . .foreign.  
  
I watch as he looks back out at the ocean, that smile not fading. The sunlight hits him suddenly, finally breaking through a hole in the vast wall of clouds above our head. The second the light hits him his skin almost seems to glow - an unearthly sight. His hair lightens in the sun, and his eyes shine, that strange, indescribable color-  
  
[It's got a name you just don't know it yet.]  
  
-lighting up his face, just like his smile.  
  
And suddenly, the moment ends and I am again staring at Link, a half-breed. Nothing more. I just watch him stand there, that sword of his strapped to his back-  
  
[I don't like it. . .]  
  
and his clothes the same as before, their tears and rips fixed. The lady of the house where we stayed insisted on fixing it, and she would not accept any form of payment, or anything at all, for that matter. He looks the same as he did when I first met him, except. . .  
  
I've noticed something dark creeping about in his eyes - hidden thoughts, deep secrets. . .  
  
[Potent fears. . .]  
  
He raises a hand absentmindedly, scratching underneath his collar, still looking about the ocean. I would wonder more on my earlier thoughts, but something has just caught my attention - though not for the first time.  
  
A large (deep) curving scar wraps around his neck, a deep blood red.  
  
Now, it is not the first time I've noticed that overly large scar, but I have not yet had the chance to inquire about it, as usually when I remember it, Link is either unconscious or asleep.  
  
[Happens a lot, doesn't it?]  
  
I think about the number of times where I've witnessed Link in some form of trouble. . .His sickness in the cave, the weird events that happened later (I'm sure that event had something to do with the sword), the occurrence with Baal, finding Link on the beach. . .  
  
[That's a bad streak of luck, for sure.]  
  
The dark troubles cross Link's eyes again, darkening the irises like a shadow. . .  
  
[Too much 'bad luck'. . .]  
  
"Link," I begin, my tone low. I am hardly aware that I've spoken, ". . .That scar, on your neck. What is it from?" He glances at me for a moment, then back out at the gray blue sea.  
  
"I. . .I. . ." A long moment passes in which he says nothing, still staring out at the waves. I am just about to tell him to forget it, when he suddenly glances towards me.  
  
"Is this one of those things you'll tell me 'later'?" I ask, changing my thoughts. Maybe he will tell me. . .  
  
I can hope.  
  
"I. . .It was some Time ago," he begins, "I was fighting against. . .Baal's brother, Diablo. He managed to attack me, and he hit me pretty bad. . ." Link raises a hand up to the scar, rubbing it gently, "After all this Time. . .It still hasn't healed. . ."  
  
I listen silently, finding myself amused with his habit of referring to 'Time' as an actual entity. I've never heard such a thing before. . .Well, this is not the first time I've heard Link say it, but he is the first person I have known to do so. I have never heard of any religion that worships the God of Time in such a manner.  
  
"Tyrael came to help me then, or so I thought," Link's voice suddenly continues, disrupting my reverie, "I don't know why, but shortly after I healed. . .Tyrael starting talking about how I was a threat, a danger, and how getting rid of me would be a 'necessary evil'. . .I. . .ran."  
  
"You ran?" I ask, the words slipping from my mouth without me meaning to speak them, "Why didn't you fight?" Images of the Chaos Sanctuary come racing back to me. . .The piles of long dead skeletons, mounds of discarded weapons, caked in blood. . .  
  
"Fight?" he asks, sounding as if the very thought were absurd, ". . .Fight an Arch Angel? Within a fortress of Heaven? . . .I'm sure it wouldn't have taken him long to call in reinforcements. I might - MIGHT - have been able to stand up to Tyrael, but not to multiple angels at once."  
  
"How did you manage to escape, then, if you were so heavily guarded?" This conversation is taking an interesting turn. . .But something about this story seems. . .wrong. Very wrong. I don't think he's telling the truth. . .  
  
"It. . .It wasn't hard. Tyrael is too trusting. . .He didn't set up much of a guard - nothing that I couldn't sneak by, anyway."  
  
"I see."  
  
[I don't believe you.]  
  
I force myself not to sigh as I drop the whole conversation. Soon the boat will be here, and we can get on our way. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I give Sheik a brief nod as we part ways on the ship - both of us heading towards our own quarters, just down the hall. I sigh, heading towards the door. The back of my hand burns as if it is stuck to a hot pan, or something similar, and since I have tried just about everything to soothe it-  
  
[Dipping it into freezing cold water, applying pressure, bashing it with the fist of my other hand. . .]  
  
- and since none of it has worked, I have decided to just let it burn, and scratch at it every once in a while. I'm beginning to grow used to the pain, I can hardly feel it now. Nothing more than a blasted annoyance. . .  
  
I go and sit on the small bed in my quarters, glad to see that it's at least SOMEWHAT soft. It bounces slightly as I land on it, hard but not too bad. . .  
  
Of course, that opinion can change over night. . .  
  
Relaxed and somewhat comfortable, I lay down backwards, my hands running over the belt around my waist. I feel the pouches there, a nervous habit that reassures me that all my belongings are where they should be.  
  
When my hand comes to the smooth shape that I instinctively know is the ocarina, I pause. A moment's hesitation runs through me, and finally I dip into that pocket, and pull out the form. Bringing it up to my face, I studying its clear blue surface, noticing the scratches and marks that scar its sides.  
  
Not surprising, as I have spent most of my life in battle. . .It's reasonable to believe that my equipment would have scars just like I do.  
  
I contemplate putting the mouthpiece to my lips, but instead I lower it, placing it back into the pouch.  
  
"Not in the mood for music? And here I thought you were the cheery one."  
  
[And here I thought that maybe you left me alone,] I reply, my hand cupping my chin, not looking upwards. I'm leaning forward, my elbow balancing on my knee. . .  
  
"Nope, just took a little break from you and your pathetic antics," she answers, and I can hear her smile in her voice, "You know, the whole poor me stuff."  
  
[Hm, really? I thought I haven't been doing that much, recently.]  
  
"No, you haven't been saying it, but you're always thinking it," she comments, taking a seat beside me. I'm not sure whether I should be comforted or bothered when I notice the bed does not give when she sits down (a sign of my mental state, for sure), "Of course, it's really not your fault."  
  
That caught my attention. I look up, [What? . . .You're defending me?]  
  
Malon nods once, a smile on her face, "If anyone's to blame, it's the Goddesses."  
  
I frown lightly, [. . .?]  
  
"Look at it this way: who made you the Hero of Time? Who could have possibly had the ability to make you go to Termina? Who could have arranged it so that you arrived in Sanctuary just in time to meet the destruction that Diablo left behind?"   
  
[I. . .]  
  
". . .Just in time to come across Baal?"  
  
[. . .]  
  
"I thought so. You haven't even thought about that, have you? Not fully, anyway." There's silence, and Malon goes to the far side of my quarters, sitting down on the small wooden chair there. That's about all there is in this room: a bed, a chair, and a porthole.  
  
I stop studying the room, focusing instead on the floorboards, listening to the creak of the wood. The smell of salt is strong in the air, and I can feel the boat swaying gently. . .  
  
We must be on our way then. . .  
  
"I don't believe this!" Malon sighs harshly, getting to her feet, "You have nothing to say? Nothing? What kind of stupid arrogant bastard are you? Don't you care anymore, Link? While we were in Hell the very first time you were just poised over the abyss that is a breakdown, and now. . . Now you don't give a rat's ass, do you? Selfish bastard. . .Don't you-"  
  
"Malon?" I say, barely aware I'm talking out loud.  
  
"Yes?" she replies, the anger in her voice dulled, replaced by a slightly sweeter tone.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
There is no answer, and when I finally look up. . .I'm all alone. . .  
  
I sigh, falling back on to the bed again. It's somewhat soft feel cushions the drop a bit, but I don't care. . .  
  
Malon's words had a definite sharp edge to them, like a knife. . .Tearing into my mind and scraping away at the fragile thoughts there. . .  
  
~*~  
  
It's funny how Time can pass by, feeling like both an instant and an eternity.  
  
Ever since Malon left me-  
  
[Stupid-]  
  
[Hate it when she's mad-]  
  
I've been lost in thoughts.  
  
I try not to think often. I rather like to hide things in the back of my head until I forget about them, no matter how important they are.  
  
. . .  
  
Maybe that's why I hallucinate. . .  
  
[Goddesses, she just had to come here, didn't she?]  
  
[Why? Don't you like the company of the one you love, asshole? It's your fault anyway. If it wasn't for you, she would have never have had to go through those seven years-]  
  
[THAT was NOT my fault-]  
  
[Oh, really? Wasn't it you who pulled the Master Sword from the stone, and allowed Gannon to be released? Seven years of torture, hatred, malice, death? Wasn't it you who brought that about?]  
  
[And what about Zelda? Didn't she play some small part in what came about?]  
  
[How DARE you suggest that! She was a child! She didn't - couldn't - have known!]  
  
[And I was supposed to?]  
  
[. . .You are-]  
  
[-were-]  
  
[-the Hero of Time. It was YOUR job.]  
  
My thoughts fall quiet for a moment, and I have a second of peace. Quiet, painful, hurtful peace. Five, maybe six hundred years of existence, and I still cannot get over the fact that it was my fault Gannondorf came into power-  
  
[-But the Sages always tried to tell you otherwise. To comfort you.]  
  
And look what that's caused them.  
  
Hyrule. . .I can feel it. Hyrule's changed.  
  
Flooded?  
  
Maybe.  
  
Changed?  
  
Definitely.  
  
. . .My hand hurts. . .It's still burning. . .  
  
[You shouldn't have left! You should have waited! Navi would have come back!]  
  
And if she didn't. . .?  
  
[Then she didn't WANT to come back. . .for a reason. . .]  
  
I sigh, leaning farther back into the blanket on my bed. I've been lying here. . .oh, a good two hours at least.  
  
I wonder if Sheik's worried?  
  
[Worried? Why would HE worry about YOU? You haven't even told him your age yet! He knows nothing about you! Why should he care?]  
  
[It is possible. . .That he might give the slightest of a damn-]  
  
[Death, cold. . .Amplisa. . .All your fault. . .No one gives a damn about you!]  
  
I shudder involuntarily at the cold voice that echoes in my head, reminding me how she died.  
  
[I-. . .I wasn't fast enough. . .]  
  
All those caravans that got attacked in the Lut Gholien Desert. . .  
  
[Too slow. . .Useless. . .Failure. . .Fuck up. . .]  
  
The words continue to come at me, but I'm not even properly paying attention anymore. Amplisa. . .I think I loved her. . .Maybe. . .If she was still around. . .Maybe I could have fallen in love. . .  
  
[But then you had to go and fail, didn't you? You had to be too slow, and let her die. . .Remember the ark of blood that the enemy's weapon made? That pristine red splattering over the walking skeletons. . .Over you? Remember how she cried out with her final breath, falling to the floor? Internal injuries. . .You knew. . .She fell and you still weren't fast enough, to catch her from falling. . .You were to slow. . .Too slow at running, at fighting. . .You couldn't save her.]  
  
I sigh again, my breath shuddering in my chest, the thoughts continuing, only getting darker and darker. . .  
  
[You couldn't save her. She DIED for you! You didn't deserve her, she could have had so much better than you! Worthless. . .YOU KILLED HER!]  
  
[N-no. . .I didn't. .. ]  
  
[Your fault ALL YOUR fault! She died and she is never coming back and you killed her it is all your fault!]  
  
Empty halls filled with the smell of blood. . .both dried and fresh. Her face, frozen forever in a horrible, screaming grimace. . .Her eyes, dead and blank. . .No Time to bury her. . .No place to put the body. . .  
  
[It was already a tomb. . .Goddesses, why did she have to die there? Why did she have to add to the blood already spilt?]  
  
A hot pain in my eyes - possibly tears - begins to surface, but I fight it back, force myself not to let it go-  
  
[Why do you cry? What do you have to cry over? It is HER who died, not you! YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT!]  
  
My sight blurs slightly, and I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, forcing them to remain dry.  
  
[Do you deserve to cry? Do you, when there are those with problems you can never begin to comprehend? They remain strong. . .And here you are, mere shadows of them, crying in the dark. Suck it up, kid.]  
  
I give my eyes an extra hard rub as I see truth in the words. I bite my lip, using the pain to help force the thoughts away. . .I've got to-  
  
[. . .be strong. . .]  
  
I cup my cheek with my hand, and release yet another shuddering breath, though this Time my chest shakes as well. . .Trying to hide my face from the world. . .  
  
[Gotta be strong. . .can't be weak. . .I AM weak. . .Gotta be strong. . .strong. . .]  
  
I am the happy cheerful Hylain that Sheik knows almost nothing about. . .Not some wreck in a room all alone with no reason to be such a weakling. . .  
  
I can persist. . .  
  
The door to the room opens with a creak, and a stab of light slices through the room, landing on my face and forcing me to turn away. . .Blinding me, as it were.  
  
Funny, I hadn't even noticed it was so dark. . .  
  
"Link, you okay?"  
  
"Yea," I steel my voice, forcing myself to not think, "Just fine. . ."  
  
"You want to come up? Managed to find us something to eat," Sheik says, sounding somewhat tired and relaxed. I shake my head, though he probably can't see it.  
  
"No, thanks. . .I. . .I might come up in a while. . .Don't really feel like eating. . ."  
  
"You sure you're alright?" he asks again, sticking the candle in the room a little more, to get a better look at me, "Well. Fine. You know where to find me."  
  
The door creaks shut, and then closes with a loud click.  
  
And again I'm alone. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I have to admit. . .I'm worried.  
  
Link was acting. . .a bit strange, last night.  
  
I take a quick glance at the half breed [probably doesn't even know it] who has his back turned to me. We're still on the ship, watching as supplies are loaded and removed at this place, Dragon Roost Island.  
  
He was. . .He sounded sad. . .  
  
Today, however, he seems normal. Not necessarily cheery, but normal.  
  
I wonder. . .Is something wrong? Something I should know about?  
  
. . .There I go, getting too involved again. . .I am supposed to be separate, above those around me. . .  
  
And yet I can't help but worry for him.  
  
[It's called compassion. You know something is wrong, and you want to help.]  
  
I take a step forward, extending one hand in a gesture of. . .of kindness, but suddenly Link turns around, looking. . .  
  
Normal.  
  
My hand drops back down by my side.  
  
"Any clue how much longer?" he asks, "All I know is that after this were going to go south for quite a ways. . ."  
  
"I'm not sure. . .but it is a fair distance," I speak almost automatically, most of my concentration gauging Link's expression, "Another week, maybe?"  
  
He nods once, "That's not too long. . ."  
  
"Did you notice that tower?" I begin, frustrated with the overall lack of evidence Link is giving me, "On the other side?"  
  
"Hm?" He seems to come out of brief daze, and I feel my suspicion heighten, "No, no, I haven't. What tower?"  
  
"Follow me," I say, almost wincing at the awkward conversation. I lead him around to the other side of the ship, and there, south of us, rises a unbelievably high tower, straight up from the water. It must be a good distance away yet, and yet it still manages to look so huge. . .  
  
Link seems to think so too. He stares at it, his eyes wide -  
  
"Why would anyone want to build something THAT big?"  
  
Okay, well, not exactly what I was expecting, but. . .  
  
"I don't know. I thought. . .you'd be interested. . ."  
  
He looks towards me, a curious expression on his face, the first REAL expression that I've seen on him today. Something seems to have happened yesterday. . .Something that must have disturbed him, and at least somewhat badly, as it seems to still be effecting him today. . .  
  
Something is up. . .And I don't think he's going to be willing to tell me. . .  
  
Maybe I should just let it drop. . .He'll tell me in his own time. . .When he's ready. . .  
  
"I'm going. . .To head back to my cabin now," I tell him, noticing that he's hardly paying attention to my words, distracted by something, ". . .I'll see you later."  
  
Damn. . .I wish he would just talk to me. . .I don't like this sudden silence. . .  
  
~*~  
  
I watch Sheik walk away, and as soon as he is out of sight I release a harsh breath, allowing my upper body to collapse on top of the railing. I'm feeling. . .better than yesterday, though I can still feel it. . .The strain on my mind. . .  
  
[Be strong. . .Stand tall. . .]  
  
I ignore the thought, folding my arms to provide a bit of cushioning for my head and neck as I stare out at the sea.  
  
The sea. . .  
  
One of Nayru's greatest creations. . .  
  
I wish I knew more about mythology. . .I find it rather interesting. . .  
  
. . .  
  
My thoughts wander back to the tower. . .I stare at it closely, amazed by its bizarre beauty. . .It stands straight up at a height I cannot even begin to estimate. It is only slightly larger at the bottom than at the top, and is surrounded by great arches that stand out in the ocean. . .Connected together in such away that the top could very well be a bridge.  
  
The worn stone looks like it could have been made from marble once, but I'm too far away to be sure. . .  
  
It's a beautiful (strangely haunting) sight. . .  
  
But once I have become accustomed to its appearance, I find myself again alone with my thoughts, and that empty spot that fills my chest. Cold, hard, leaden. . .I feel like my chest has been hollowed out, and left like that. . .My arms and legs are heavy, and cold. . .  
  
Especially my fingertips. Ever since that very first Time in Hell, my fingertips seem frozen. . . As if I'm stuck in a snow storm without gloves, or something. . .  
  
The only thing that seems to warm my hands now is the Hellplague. . .  
  
Is the sword the cause of this?  
  
No, I shake my head. I won't believe that, not without more evidence. If the sword was causing my fingers to almost burn with cold, then why would it relieve some of that chill when I touch it? Would it not strive to make it worse?  
  
[You know. . .That's not right. What else would it be? Use your head, Link, that sword is NOT good for you. . .]  
  
I do my best to shove aside the voice, trying to ignore it. It doesn't make sense, does it? If it causes me such cold, then why-  
  
[Think about it, moron, it's a safeguard, so that you don't throw it away.]  
  
Maybe. . .  
  
I sigh, officially at a loss. . .I don't want to give up the sword - it's my only weapon right now, I can't afford to be defenseless. . .  
  
[Or is there something more to it?]  
  
I slink further down into the 'pillow' my arms form. . .I'm so tired. . .After last night, it was hard to sleep. . .Maybe I could rest for just a little while? It feels like there are so many things running through my head, and I can't seem to keep proper track of them. . .Maybe a little rest would do me good. . .  
  
My eyes close, ever so slowly, my vision blurring, then fading into nothing. . .  
  
All I can feel in the senseless void that follows is a slow, steady rocking. . .encompassing all. . .Almost protective, as it were. Shielding. . .  
  
Voices echo in my mind, and at first I start at them, almost waking, when suddenly some part of my subconscious realizes that it is only the sailors talking, and that the voices are relaxed, calm. . .  
  
. . .  
  
Peaceful. . .For the first Time in quiet a while, I can really say that I feel. . .Happy. The dark blanket of nothingness that has embraced me has blocked out all of the fears that linger beneath my waking mind-  
  
[Triforce. Burning. . .]  
  
[Hyrule?]  
  
[Sheik? What if he hates me? How will he react?]  
  
[What did Baal want with me?]  
  
[Hellplague?]  
  
[Squall and the others. . .]  
  
-and it takes it all away, leaving me in a state of dreamless sleep.  
  
. . .  
  
When I finally begin to come to myself, it is not through the natural process of waking. . .No, it is something else. I am jolted awake by a strong, forceful movement. . .I can't quite describe it, it feels strange. . .  
  
Through a weary, groggy mind, I force myself to wake up-  
  
[GET UP! NOW! UP UP UP!]  
  
Rolling on to my side. It seems that I have sunk to the deck of the ship, sitting upright against the thick wood ledge as I slept. I force back a yawn. . .There was something important. . .Something. . .  
  
It is dark all around me, eclipsing. . .Thunder flashes through the dark clouds overhead, and a strong wind makes me instinctively grab a hold of the railing.  
  
A storm. . .?  
  
No, that wasn't what woke me up. . .  
  
/Watch out.\  
  
A new voice? I don't have the Time to contemplate that, never mind listen and acknowledge the warning before another tremor runs through the ship, almost knocking me clear off the ship. I hit into the ledge that acts as a railing, bashing my head hard against the wood as I sink to my knees.  
  
What the hell was that. . .?  
  
Again, it hits, and once more I am forced into the ledge - though this Time I hit with my shoulder instead of my head. I bite back a curse, one hand holding my throbbing forehead, while the other reaches up and grabs on to the railing, tightly. . .  
  
I bring myself up to my feet, waiting for the pain to fade. . .It does, thought only slightly and reluctantly, but I have no choice. Whatever the ship is hitting into (hitting against) it is not good, and I can't afford to just stand here and wait for some headache to fade.  
  
I walk (wobble would be more proper) over towards where the cabins are, heading for the door that leads to the stairs, but as I grip the handle the door flies open and a warm body smashes into me.  
  
"Link?"  
  
I open my eyes and find myself on the ground, staring face to face with a well wrapped Sheikah, "Sheik? What's going on?"  
  
"I don't know," he replies, standing up, "I think maybe we crashed into something."  
  
"Into something?"  
  
"Yeah. . .I was going to go find the Captain. Coming?" He starts heading off, towards the bow of the ship, and I scramble to my feet to follow him, doing my best not to slip on the wet deck.  
  
The smell of salt is still heavy in the air, maybe even more so than earlier. It's hard to tell, and I can't really afford for my mind to wander, otherwise I am definitely going to slip and fall off this deck and into the ocean, where with my luck I will sink and drown.  
  
We race up (damn this Sheikah is fast!) to the helm, up the slick stairs, Sheik arriving first, then me. I come to a stop beside him, trying to stop from sliding over the edge. Instead, I simply manage to hit the wooden ledge and NOT fall off.  
  
Sheik and the Captain are discussing something in low tones, something that maybe I should be concerned about, but right now it's not that important. I merely continue to look over the edge as I brace myself on the railing, feeling rather. . .Drained, though that's no real surprise.  
  
I was feeling like that earlier.  
  
Suddenly there's a hand on my shoulder, and I jerk about, snapping out of my thoughts. I breathe a sigh of relief. . .It's only Sheik. He's still got that damn guise of his up, but I can see slight concern in his eyes.  
  
"They don't know what's wrong," he says, brushing a soaked lock of hair from infront of his face, "They suggest that we head back down into the cabins."  
  
"I. . .I don't think-" I would continue, but there's a sudden flash of motion coming from the dark waters, and both Sheik and I turn. A large, pale white blue tentacle erupts from the black ocean, rising up high - maybe fifty feet out of the water - and immediately collapses back in. My eyes go wide.  
  
The thing had to be HUGE! The tentacle must have been at least fifty (sixty?) feet long and as thick as a tree trunk!  
  
There are shouts coming from around the ship now, and even a few screams. My eyes scan the water, searching for the body of whatever it was. It must be what's hindering (attacking?) us, and if we have to slay it, it will be a lot easier if we can see it.  
  
There - no, wait, just another pale tentacle, again rising out of the water. It crashes down into the ocean with a booming crash, the wave rising up and over the deck of this ship, soaking both Sheik and I. The ship rocks with the force, but besides a few puddles of water, no damage done.  
  
I look at Sheik, who doesn't even seem to notice he's wet. His eyes are also scanning the water, but telling by the expression on his face (more accurately, in his eyes) he can't see it either. I sigh, running a hand through my hair in an effort to drain out some of the access water. The liquid pours down my face and I sputter.  
  
Sheik looks at me briefly, cocking an eyebrow in what appears to be amused curiosity, before turning back towards the waters. Regaining my composure, I do the same.  
  
Another tentacle, over to the east this Time. It crashes down very close to the ship, causing our boat to rock harshly. Luckily, the moment doesn't last long, and neither Sheik or myself has been tossed from the boat.  
  
But a quick glance over the side tells me that others have.  
  
Sheik grabs my shoulder and spins me about before I have a chance to leap over the side. "Don't," he warns in a low tone, his eyes narrowing, "You jump in there and you will be nothing more than an easy snack."  
  
"I. . .I don't want to watch them die!" I reply in a sharp hiss. He rolls his eyes at me.  
  
"I didn't say we'd leave them to die, no. I think instead of jumping in after them, maybe we should take care of our monster problem?"  
  
"Oh, and how do you propose to do that?" I mutter back, "We can't even SEE it!"  
  
"I've seen the tentacles more than once, and I'm sure you have too."  
  
"Yeah, and. . .?" I motion with one hand for him to continue on with his half finished plans, a bit of irritation in my voice.  
  
"And what sits in the middle of these tentacles?" My eyes go wide and unfocused, and my hand stops, "Exactly."  
  
I regain my composure quickly, glad to be back into a more comfortable conversation with Sheik, unlike the previous ones, "And how, Oh-Mighty-Sheik, do you propose we HURT it?"  
  
"I was hoping you'd figure that one out. You've got to be good for SOMETHING."  
  
"Hey!" I snap, pride bristling at the comment, "I'm good. I'm smart, strong, fast, handsome-"  
  
"-Big mouthed-"  
  
"-HEY!"  
  
"Just figure something out! We're running out of time!"  
  
Goddesses, I don't think I ever heard of such bad Timing before. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, long white tentacles emerged out of the water, latching on to the sides of the boat with lightning speed. The screams and shouts around us have increased, almost as loud as the crashing of the waves and the booming thunder.  
  
I can see several of the sailors around me take up weapons and begin hacking at the tentacles. I'm about to go join them, but before I even complete my second step, I am thrown to the ground. I hit the deck, roll, and turn about.  
  
The main body of the creature has latched on to the ship as well, it's strange spear-like head sticking up high into the sky. It's got white skin, and near the top of it's head are pale blue fins that flutter about slowly. Piercing red and yellow eyes with slits for pupils stare back at me, and I can't seem to draw my gaze from the beak like opening on it's underside, greedily trying to eat anything it touches.  
  
My gaze shifts to see Sheik running about, dodging a wayward tentacle that keeps lashing out at him. I can see him reaching underneath the hanging flap of his cowl. . .  
  
I frown. . .What did he keep there again. . .  
  
[Small, needle like daggers. . .]  
  
But. . .Those won't do much, unless. . .  
  
"SHEIK!" I shout, "ATTACK IT'S EYES!"  
  
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK I WAS GOING TO DO?" he yells back, and I can feel a slight heat warming up my cheeks. . .  
  
Damn, I guess, well. . .haha. . .  
  
[This is NOT the Time to be embarrassed!]  
  
I nod to my self, hand reaching up over my shoulder for my sword. The hilt touches my palm, and at the contact, a wave of heat spreads through my hands, warming my cold fingertips. I smile at the slight easing of my chill, but there's work to be done.  
  
If I still had my bow and arrows, maybe I could be more of a help to Sheik, but all I've got is my sword. . .  
  
And my ocarina. . .  
  
Theoretically, if I play the Song of Storms, that should stop the rain and all, but. . .  
  
No, I shake my head. Far more important things to be done.  
  
Sword in hand, I turn towards the closest tentacle. It is holding on tightly to the deck with the help of its giant suction cups, and there is no way its just going to let go. However. . .Maybe I can convince it to. . .  
  
I move closer to the bow of the ship, where the tentacle leaves the boat and heads towards the main body of this monstrosity, this-  
  
[-Krakken-]  
  
-and I swing the Hellplague as hard as I can, the hilt in both hands. The white silver blade sings through the air, my aim true, striking a good blow. The metal wedges into the thick tentacle, and with a shout I drag it right through, cutting the appendage.  
  
There's a loud, inhuman shriek from the monster, and I turn to look at it's head. The image I see there reminds me of an oil painting I saw long ago, in. . .Well, I forget where, but that's not important. The rain falls from the blacked sky and the water is as dark as the deepest depths. Sheik stands before all this like a bright beacon in the light, his blonde hair soaking wet with the rain that falls. The monster looms before him, many Times his size. His daggers are out and his feet are moving as he charges. That wayward tentacle comes down again, and the Sheikah barely dodges, spinning about and slashing it as he runs past. Another scream of agony.  
  
I frown.  
  
We may be hurting it, but is this a losing battle?  
  
I give my head a swift shake, much to the displeasure of my sore shoulder and my aching head. No. We will win this.  
  
Sheik has pulled out another few small daggers, placing each one in-between his knuckles, making it look almost like he has claws of a sort. He spins about, gaining momentum, and lashes out his arm, throwing the little daggers like one would toss a discus. . .Well, sort of, I suppose.  
  
The daggers fly through the air, barely visible due to their tiny size, and I wonder for one brief second-  
  
[What the HELL is he thinking?]  
  
-when suddenly the small knives strike home, embedding themselves deep into one of the eyes of the beast. I can't help but say I'm surprised when I see the eye actually explode, the bright yellow orange goo splattering all over the beast's face.  
  
A loud shriek fills the air, almost damaging in its intensity. . .  
  
[So. . .It' really didn't like that. . .]  
  
Well, normally it would be no problem to take out the six or seven eyes it has, but unfortunately, I don't have a bow and the shudder that just ran through the ship (accompanied by the sound of wood cracking) has just reminded me that we are running horribly short on Time.  
  
I need. . .I need a weapon that I can throw. . .But where could I find that. . .  
  
I turn around and start heading towards where I saw them loading the cargo earlier. There must be something there!  
  
There's another loud shriek, and I can only hope that Sheik just landed another blow. Wood cracks and splinters again, and this Time I find myself jumping wildly to avoid a widening crack beneath my feet. It spreads ahead of me, the wooden boards ripping apart to reveal a vast hole beneath me that reeks of rot and sea water. . .  
  
I somehow manage to twist in the air, missing the crack by several inches when I roll upon impact. I come to a stop, breathing harshly, the sweat pouring down my face and mingling with the cold rain. . .  
  
I brush a hand against my brow before moving on. It's cold out here, a fine mist forming over the fighting sailors and the tentacles themselves as well. I shiver slightly as the cold pervades my body, and I must say that I'm glad that I've got a reason to run. It warms up my body, and I need to find some kind of weapon, but my head is protesting my actions with a throbbing ache.  
  
[Oh, I am SO going to have a bruise there tomorrow. . .]  
  
If there is a tomorrow.  
  
There on the deck I find the leftovers of the earlier loading. Poles and boxes and barrels. . .But nothing that useful, not that I can see. . .Maybe once I get closer and come to a stop I might find something.  
  
Slipping and sliding I fall and continue on right into the pile of crates and such with a crash (small compared to what I've been hearing tonight). I quickly pick myself up and dust myself off, trying to ease my injured pride.  
  
[More things to worry about then your pride. . .]  
  
I nod, sifting through the pile. . .Goddesses. . .I need something. . .Give me anything. . .!  
  
Nothing. . .Nothing. . .NOTHING!  
  
Another shriek, and the entire boat shakes violently, sending me flying into the crates with a loud clatter and the noise of something snapping. I don't even have enough Time to mentally thank Sheik for his skill before my head comes in contact with the wooden boards.  
  
I open my eyes (which I didn't realize were closed) and try to will away the ache that is spreading. However, despite my pain, the thought drops dead as I find myself staring at what very well could be my salvation. . .  
  
One of the poles snapped. . .  
  
Now, the edge is still rather dull, but the idea has been implanted into my brain. I take the broken edge and hack at it with my sword. Now, normally, I know this wouldn't be a good idea, as my sword would go so dull so quickly. . .but. . .  
  
I don't think the Hellplague would dull that easily. . .  
  
I hack away at it, trying to make a sharp tip as fast as I can - a makeshift spear of sorts. Now, while I have never actually used that kind of weapon, I think that I might be able to do it. And if I fail, well, I either get to try again or I get to die on this ship.  
  
Might as well make as much use of it as I can.  
  
Finally, I get a nice long tip out of the thing (my precious work almost being destroyed more than once by the monsters throes), something that will not immediately break upon contact. Some part of myself deep in the back of my mind worries for Sheik, deeply, despite the fact that I have no reason whatsoever to believe that he is dead or even hurt.  
  
[Better move, just in case that changes.]  
  
Heeding my thoughts, I stand up quickly, putting away my sword and taking my makeshift spear over towards the bow. It is still cold and very wet and I'm shivering more thoroughly, but that does not matter right now. I run until the stairs are right before me, and even then I do not slow down. I jump right up the damn things, and come to a sliding halt at the top.  
  
Sheik's still alive, and doing fairly well. He has taken out a number of the Krakken's eyes, and does not appear to be hurt. In fact, it looks almost like he could kill this strange creature all by himself, but. . .  
  
I feel another tremor run through the ship. Sheik may be distracting this creature and giving the remaining passengers a larger chance to survive, but I think that we are nearing the end. This ship - as well built as it is - cannot hold out forever, and Time is running short. . .  
  
I dash up beside Sheik, my spear in hand. . .This thing is not all that sharp when compared to a real, metal headed spear, but it's weight should help sink it in quite a bit.   
  
I raise it, letting the tip sit above my head while the tail rests almost touching the ground behind me, and I close my eyes, reopen them, and pray that my aim is good.  
  
~*~  
  
I run, slick, covered in sweat and rain, my heart pumping wildly in my chest. So far, I have managed to only slow down this giant squid, but perhaps if I destroy enough eyes. . .  
  
I am about to run some more, and gain a better vantage point at another eye, but suddenly Link (where has he been?) is beside me, in my way, and I swiftly turn to look at him.  
  
He stands tall in the rain, his eyes strong and his mouth set into a determined ling. He's got a weapon out, but it is not his sword, or any sword for that matter. I would laugh, if the situation not so dire and if I were not a Sheikah. He's got a sharpened pole, ready to be thrown like a spear. . .  
  
Has Link ever thrown a spear?  
  
There is yet again another rumble that shakes the ship, and I whip about to see. . .The creature is rising up out of deep, wrapping itself even tighter around the ship than ever before. Once again, its mouth is visible, the beak like structure snapping an nothing, attempting to devour everything that comes its way. . .  
  
There's a grunt of effort from beside me, and the next thing I know that wooden pole is flying towards the mouth of the beast. . .Come on. . .Damnit, the wind and the rain might throw it off. . .  
  
Whatever doubts I may have had about Link before, I no longer doubt his ability to throw a spear. The sharpened tip sinks deep into the fragile flesh of the squid. It roars again in pain, the noise strangely echoing upon itself. I am about to back away as the squid releases its grip slightly, but suddenly I am forced to roll out of the way.  
  
A giant tentacle comes down upon where I stand, and it misses only by a foot or so. Before I can even begin to breathe a sigh of relief, I hear an ominous cracking noise. . .Something splinters, and I am instantly falling into a black abyss of no escape. . .  
  
~*~ 


	41. Chapter XL Isabel

Act I - Trial of a Man  
  
Chapter XL - Isabel  
  
~*~  
  
I am Isabel Johansen.  
  
It has been two weeks since the attack, a week and four days since Commander Squall's recovery from the stab wound delivered to his back, and eight days since I was officially suspected of treason towards the Garden.  
  
Commander Squall was heavily injured in the attack, leaving many to fear for his life. The wound was caused by a student, who, walked up behind the commander in the halls, and stabbed him without warning. The so called 'student' (who is now believed to be an operative from a rebel faction) ran off to leave Squall bleeding to death in the hallway.  
  
It wasn't too bad of a wound. . .It caused (luckily) no real damage. . .If it wasn't for the fact that the hall was empty and no one knew for some time that the Commander was injured, then Squall would have spent hardly any time in the infirmary at all.   
  
So why am I in here?  
  
I was stupid enough to tell them of the event. . .as I had seen it in my dreams. It was I who alerted Quistis that Squall MAY be in danger. . .Once they found him lying there, the blame was automatically placed on me.  
  
Why?  
  
Because I 'knew' it happened. They figured me to be an insider for the attackers. An enemy. A traitor.  
  
. . .  
  
I did no such thing. . .  
  
But how was I supposed to tell them? What I had seen. . .That I could see the future. . .  
  
I wished for the words to come out, but I could only stand there dumbly, jaw slack as they pulled me away for questioning. . .  
  
And now. . .Now I still can't say anything. . .  
  
I'm sitting here, locked away in an empty dorm room, bare except for a bed and a chair, both right against the wall. The bed is as comfortable as any other bed in this facility (except for maybe those in the infirmary), and the chair is rather nice, but. . .  
  
It's just the lack of anything in this place. There is nothing here, besides me the bed and the chair. White walls and a locked window made of thick glass.  
  
Not that I'm thinking of escaping.  
  
I just don't want to be alone. . .  
  
It's cold in here, and I'm shivering as I sit here, on the bed. The blankets are somewhat thick, and so I have them wrapped around me for warmth, though it seems that they help very little. I snuggle deeper into them, hoping to find a way to trap the warmth. . .  
  
[They held Link this way. . .I wonder how on earth he managed to escape?]  
  
It does not really matter, I suppose, even if I were to find a way out of this white prison, I would never be able to outrun any guards that may be around my door. I do not have the speed of an Elf, nor the reflexes. Three seconds out the door and I KNOW that I would be tackled and dragged back in. And even if I got away? What then? Where would I go? An escape attempt would mean nothing more than 'proof' towards my 'guilt'.  
  
No one would believe me after that. . .  
  
I sigh and run a hand through my dark hair, breathing in the crisp air. . .I suppose it's not all THAT bad. . .Things could be worse-  
  
There's a sudden click that causes me to jerk my head up in the direction of the door, and suddenly it slides open, admitting three people; Quistis, Rinoa, and Squall. Instructor, Sorceress, and Commander. What a little band they make.  
  
Quistis is leading the way, almost stalking towards me as a predator to the kill. She's been acting strange ever since Link left. . .There's rumors going around that she liked him, but I'm not sure. . .All I know is that for the first few days after he left, I didn't see her, anywhere.  
  
She approaches me with determination set deep into her eyes, a slight smirk on her lips. When the words come, I'm hardly ready for them:  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"I. . .I was accused of treason," I mutter, a bit surprised by her question. I glance quickly to Squall and Rinoa, the former looking absolutely nonchalant and cold, while the later looks worried. I gaze back at Quistis.  
  
"Do you understand why you are accused with such a crime?"  
  
"I. . .They think that I harbored a rebel and helped him come into the Garden to assassinate the Commander," I speak, trying to keep cool and collected, though I am sure that everyone can hear the nervousness in my voice.  
  
"And is that true?"  
  
"No, of course not," I reply, hoping Quistis will believe me. I don't dare to ramble on how I came across the thought of Squall being assassinated, as she would not believe me and not only call me a traitor, but also an insane lunatic.  
  
"How can-"  
  
"Instructor, that is enough," Squall interrupts, causing both me and Quistis to face him with shock on both our faces. Though the words he said were quiet, they conveyed powerful dislike, but for what I am not sure. He steps forward now, his eyes not leaving Quistis until he stands right beside her, now looking at me but not talking to me, "I do believe that you have said all that you need to say. It is my turn, now."  
  
Quistis looks about ready to say something to the contrary, but she ends up closing her mouth and stepping back towards Rinoa.  
  
Squall now truly looks at me for the first time, crossing his arms and studying me, "Isabel, tell me, if you were not in on the attempt to take my life, then how did you know?" He takes a step forward, leaning a bit, before whispering, ". . .What did you see?" As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he leans back again, looking just as he did before.  
  
What did I see? Does. . .Does he know?  
  
". . .You may not believe me, Commander," I look up into his eyes to see him urging me on silently, as if he already knows what's coming and is ready, ". . .but I saw it. In my dreams."  
  
Quistis scoffs at the idea from her position behind Rinoa, "That's impossible. You're suggesting that you can see the future?"  
  
"Well. . .I. . .But-" Before I can continue again Squall is leaning towards me, this time putting his hand under my chin and bringing my face closer to his. I sputter in shock as he stares deeply into my eyes, studying everything there. . .Some distant part of me wonders just what it is he is looking at - the red that Link says indicates that I have the sight, or if he is looking for my honesty. . .  
  
[I have never been THIS close to the Commander before. . .]  
  
Slowly, he lets go of my chin, standing back up straight, "I. . .I believe her," he says, turning back towards his friends, "I do not know how she can see these things, but I believe her. She is telling the truth."  
  
"Squall are you mad? She is obviously lying!" Quistis replies hastily, her voice laced with a venom - not directed towards Squall, but towards me.  
  
Squall shakes his head, "I do not believe so, Instructor," he seems to be empasizing Quistis' position, as if to remind her who's got the higher rank, "I think she's telling the truth."  
  
"Well, at least let's test her, or something! I won't - can't - just let her be released so easily. What if she really is lying, Squall? Can we risk another attack?"  
  
"A test, then," Squall repeats, looking back down at me, "I shall figure out a test for you tomorrow. Best hope that you can solve it right, otherwise I cannot guarantee your fate." Then, he, Quistis, and Rinoa all leave. I am left to ponder why Squall has trusted me so easily, and how on earth I can hope that I will manage to win the test when I can't seem to control my Sight, when I suddenly realize something.  
  
Throughout this entire meeting, Rinoa never said anything. Nothing at all. She just stood there, sad and silent, as if she knew something bad was going on. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Yes, I know, short. Sue me. I hope this made some sense. The FF8 chapters - though few and far between - are going to be a bit longer after this, but this was just an intro to what is going on with them right now. That, and I just put up a chapter a few days ago. Yeah. It's all good. 


	42. Chapter XLI Truths and Half Lies

Act I - Trial of a Man  
  
Chapter XLI - Truths and Half Lies  
  
~*~  
  
{ Blah blah blah } - henceforth indicates visions of the Sight.  
  
~*~  
  
{ "Hey, Link? What's wrong?" I ask him cautiously, taking a step towards him, slowly. He's been acting strange for the last two days or so, ever since we got out of that damn Goddess forsaken cave. . .And now he's really worrying me. He's standing right at the edge of that cliff, a little too close for comfort. He's looking away from me, out at the sunrise instead, and I find myself impressed by the beautiful view. . .  
  
"I. . ." I frown with concern as Link speaks strange, his voice clouded by confusion. . .And something darker. . ."I. . .There's something wrong. . ." His eyes clench closed, as if in pain, and I take a worried step forward, reaching one hand out. He spins around, his hands racing up to his head, clutching it, "Don't. . .Don't come any closer!" He sways dangerously, taking an uneasy step back, even closer to the edge. I hear the sound of small rocks breaking loose and falling. . .  
  
"What's the matter? Come on, you can tell me. . ." What ever is wrong with him isn't natural, and I think I should approach him slowly and carefully, lest he get the strange notion to suddenly throw himself off the cliff, "Does it have something to do with that Shade? From earlier?"  
  
Link's eyes blink in heavy confusion, "He's. . .He's laughing. . .He's laughing, Sheik!" Eyes again close tightly in pain, though this time they do not immediately open, "Shut up! He won't shut up! SHUT UP!" I watch as Link's knuckles whiten, forming a death grip on his skull. . .He's almost doubled over now, terribly close to that ominous edge. . .I force myself to release the breath I was holding, and I take another step forward - small, insignificant - hoping that maybe in his strange delirium, Link won't notice my approach.  
  
"Shh. . .It's okay, Link. . .Come over here. . .He can't get you over here. . ." I mumble, saying things that I can't say are true. . .It would help if I knew what was bothering Link, but he's so incoherent. . .  
  
"I-it won't be okay. . .It can NEVER be okay. . ." His eyes snap open and meet mine, terribly clear and cold and frightened. . .His hands have not released his head, and I can see another shockwave of pain rip through his face. . .Almost enough to make him clench his eyes shut again. . ."It will never be alright. . .never never never SHUT UP!"  
  
His voice is wavering now as he lingers on the knife edge and the drop into madness. . .I take another tiny step closer. . .Maybe I can get him to talk to me. . .I need to know what's bothering him. . .Who's talking to him. . .  
  
"What is he saying, Link? What is it. . .?" I try desperately to think of what to say, to try to counteract the madness that is suddenly descending upon my friend so, "Please, tell me. . ."  
  
"Get away Sheik. . .Get a. . .way. . ." Link takes a staggering step backwards, and I hear yet more rocks crumble, preparing to fall. . ., "Get. . .AWAY!" Suddenly, the ground gives from beneath him, and I can only watch - my body far to slow - as my best friend topples over backwards. . .I race to the edge, too late, but I must try anyway. . .  
  
It is a sickening sound that Link makes upon impact with the ground below, a disturbing crunch of bone and muscle and a dull thud that shall haunt me to the end of my days. . . }  
  
~*~  
  
My heavy lidded eyes finally seem to manage the strength to open, though only enough to allow a sliver of light in my eyes. For a moment all I can do is lay here and moan softly, the few images I can actually see unable to register with my brain. I blink harshly, feeling annoyed despite the fact that my brain is covered with a heavy fog, and when my eyes do not clear, I raise a hand and rub my eyes clear.  
  
The sound of ocean waves is clear, very clear, and I notice with some dislike that my clothes are damp, though only slightly. . .I'm laying on grass, my chest down. I lower my hand again, reaching slowly for my neck. . .I sigh when I find it, the cool feel of my Soul Stone in my grasp. . .At least I still have that.  
  
What happened. . .?  
  
I run a hand through my bangs, wincing as I notice a bruise there, and a bit of blood. . .  
  
I hit my head? Hard, too, by the feel of it. . .  
  
Water. . .Bruise. . .Ocean. . .Unfamiliar land. . .  
  
The ship! Sheik! I whip my head about furiously, looking for him. Where the Hell is he? Is he alright?  
  
To my left I suddenly come across the image of Sheik, on his chest, a good six feet away from me. His bangs cover his face, and he's still, so still I can't even tell if he's breathing. Instincts jump in, and I leap to my feet in one graceful bound of-  
  
OW! FUCK! What the Hell?  
  
I didn't even make it to my knees, damnit! There's something holding my legs down!  
  
I turn around as much as I can, and find the source soon enough.  
  
[So that's why I couldn't feel my legs. . .]  
  
A large log, possibly part of the mast, lays across the back of my knees. . .Now that I think of it, the lower half of my body is a little. . .funny feeling. . .I reach back with on hand, vainly hoping that I can free myself, but. . .I can't even reach. I try to buck my legs a little, get it to move some, but I can't. I'm past numb back there, and I doubt that it's a good thing. . .  
  
Hell, what if I lose my legs? A bit useless if I can't walk, aren't I? I'd take the sword to myself, if that happened.  
  
"A bit stuck, are we?"  
  
"Not now, Malon," I mumble through clenched teeth, "Can't you see I'm a bit busy here?"  
  
"Oh, really? I think you're a bit stuck, aren't you? . . .Why don't you try waking the Sheikah up?"  
  
"And just how do you propose I do that? He's a bit out of my reach," I lean over as much as I can with one hand, stretching to prove my point. A quick glance over my shoulder reveals Malon sitting on the very log that is holding me down, a large smile on her face as she balances her chin in the palm of her hand, her elbow propped on her knee.  
  
"Have you thought of calling out to him?" she laughs at my surprised expression, "Geez, even I thought you would have figured out that one. You better hurry though, what is the use of a Hero of Time without legs?" With that, she simply vanishes, fading out as if never there.  
  
[Of course, that is because she was never there,] I sigh, trying harder to scramble out of my predicament, [But. . .What she said could work. . .]  
  
"Uh, Sheik. . .Sheik? A little help here! Sheik?!"  
  
No answer. . .  
  
Can this get any worse?  
  
I struggle to squirm out of this damn trap again, and sigh, letting my body go limp when I get no where. . .I need Sheik's help for this, and I don't know how much longer my legs are going to last under this heavy log. . .  
  
My hands brush over the top of the grass disinterestedly, my eyes going wide as at last an idea comes to me. . .I search through the blades of green, a huge grin lighting up my face. . .Pebbles. . .I grab some, a small handful, and I take aim, throwing one at a Time. .   
  
The first one misses entirely, as does the second one. The third one lands on his back with no effect. The fourth one, however, hits it's mark, right in the middle of his forehead. Sheik twitches lightly, and I throw another pebble just to be sure. He lifts his head slowly, just in Time to get my fifth pebble on the noise, Sheik making a disgruntled noise upon it's impact.  
  
". . .Link?" he asks, groggily, "W-what happened?"  
  
"'Bout Time you got up," I mumble before acknowledging his question, "Oh, not much. Giant krakken, our boat sank. . .Washed up here. . .Mind getting this log off my legs?" I ask with a bit of a sarcastic, I'm-in-serious-pain grin, gesturing at the piece of the mast stuck behind me. I watch as his eyes widen slightly, and he quickly hops to his feet, though he sways a bit.  
  
Once he catches his balance he kneels down next to me, and pushes. I gasp in pain as the very heavy log finds a new, non numb spot to crush, but it is temporary. Sheik quickly manages to wriggle the damn thing off completely, and as soon as I am free of it's heavy weight I roll over on to my back, breathing a bit harshly. . .I give on of my legs a twitch, glad to see that I can still control it. No permanent damage seems to have been done.  
  
"This looks like part of the mast," Sheik states, mostly to himself. I'd roll my eyes if they were still open.  
  
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I say, reciting the line that I have heard Zell say many Times, "I figured that out a while ago. Mind finding out where we are?"  
  
Sheik mumbles under his breath, and I'm pretty sure he's not happy with me right now, but I don't particularly care. After he got the log off and I moved, I realized that I have a headache, and I'd like a minute before I try moving again. . .  
  
"Is there anyone else around?" Sheik asks, and I sigh, annoyed with the pins and needles that have started to form in my legs.  
  
"If there was, I think I would have had that log off a lot sooner. . ." I crack open one eye, wincing at the bright light that silhouettes Sheik, ". . .Sorry. . .I get a bit bitchy. . ."  
  
"Obviously," he mutters, shifting his direction to look about. I roll back on to my stomach and take a look-see for myself, though I see nothing of interest. We seem to be laying on a flat, small section of grass. Bare, except for a shrub and a. . .mailbox? Whatever. The ocean is right at the edges, though it appears like there is a small drop, instead of a shore. . .To my right is a waterfall with a drop of about fifteen feet. It pools only a few feet from where Sheik stands, and then drains into the ocean. . .A rock wall is behind me, rising up about five feet, and then again after a short ledge another four feet or so.  
  
"Where to now?" I ask, poking gingerly at the small wound on my head. Ouch, that smarts. . .  
  
"I see no other way besides climbing up," he says, looking in the direction of the waterfall, "Maybe there is someone living on this island. . .Someone who can help us. I doubt that this is Outset."  
  
"I agree," I say, getting up shakily, using the wall to support my still wobbly legs. Sheik looks over at me, silently offering his help, but I shake my head. I just need a few minutes, and my legs will be fine. . .I say as much to him, and he nods.  
  
"It's a good thing that you woke up when you did, otherwise who knows what may have happened?"  
  
"Yeah," I agree, wincing as I put some more pressure on my legs, ". . .You know-"  
  
"Shh!" Sheik suddenly whispers, harshly, falling into a bit of a crouch. I stare at him, confused, one eyebrow arched.  
  
"What is it?" I ask, trying to be a bit quiet. He offers me no answer, his crimson eyes glancing at me only briefly.  
  
"It's. . .too quiet. . ." He stands back up fully, glancing at me, "Here, let me help you. We should move as soon as possible," he stares up at the ledges behind me, back at me, and then up at what I must assume to be the top of the waterfall area. Slowly, he walks over to me, and offers me a boost. I look at him incredulously for a moment, before nodding and accepting his help.  
  
Up I go, on to the second level, where without the help of the wall I instantly fall to my knees. It doesn't matter, really, as Sheik hops up I crawl over to the next ledge, using it again as a brace. I don't have the strength to pull myself up quite yet, but the weakness in my legs is fading, and I can barely feel the ache in my head anymore.  
  
Sheik again assists me up, and by the Time I get to the top I can feel the pins and needles in my legs strengthen, and then completely fade out. With his help, I can again stand, and stay upright this Time, without support. I'm a bit shaky, but I can walk. . .I think. . .  
  
I bite my lip gently and take a step, glad to find that I don't topple over instantly. . .If I can walk this good, then there must be no permanent damage. . .I grab the lip of the edge, and pull myself up easily. Soon, Sheik is again beside me, and I'm standing on my own, observing this new area.  
  
The land still rises up, to meet the height of the waterfall, but now instead of ledges it is simply an incline. There's a few more bushes here, and a patch or two of longer grass, but otherwise it seems clear, clean. Peaceful, in a way that I have not seen in a long Time. .   
  
Not since the last Time I was in Hyrule, when I was too young and naive to notice it. . .  
  
The Triforce symbol on the back of my hand burns strongly, but relents shortly afterward, as if a reminder. I rub the spot through the material of the glove absentmindedly, more interested with the surrounding area rather than my hand. Sheik motions towards the incline before heading that way, and I follow right behind him.  
  
We walk slow (probably for my benefit, as my legs are still a bit funny feeling) and I can't help but notice that something's not right. . .It's peaceful and all, but. . .  
  
Without warning, the bush right in front of Sheik (looks a bit like a large purple flower bulb) gurgles, and out of the center rises a large plant head, equipped with bright purple and green coloring, as well as many small, needle like teeth. Sheik pulls back, leaping away, and by some unknown instinct I race forward, hand rising up towards the Hellplague. . .  
  
The thing lashes out at Sheik, but by the Time it moves he is already out of its range, his speed far greater. The Hellplague is pulled from its sheath, and in my hand. The beast rears back for another strike, but by the Time it moves again, my sword is already cutting at it. It makes a strange whirring noise, flinching into a straight up and down position. I see the weak point immediately, and slash again in its weakness - cutting through its steam. Another whirring noise as the creature dies, disappearing into -  
  
A puff of black smoke?  
  
All it leaves behind is the remains of its thick steam.  
  
I bend over the spot where it came from - even the flower from which the carnivorous head emerged disappeared. . .Well. . .Despite the strange death, the creature reminded me of - oh, what were they called? Deku. . .Deku Baba? Maybe. Deku something, for sure. . .Little flesh eating plants that would rise suddenly up from the ground, and devour passing by animals. They would attack Elves, too, despite the fact that we were to large for them to eat. . .  
  
But the Deku. . .Babas or whatever were a lot smaller last Time I was in Hyrule. . .has something changed?  
  
[What am I talking about. . .Lots has changed. . .] The ocean would attest to that. . .I just wish I knew exactly what has happened. . .  
  
"What was that thing?" Sheik asks, perfectly calm despite the attack. I blink slowly, wishing somewhere deep down that I could be as calm, as serious, as collected as he is.  
  
"I think they are called Deku Babas, but I'm not sure," he arches an eyebrow, and I shrug, "It's been quite some Time since I last came to. . .to these parts."  
  
"Do you know where we are, then?" he asks. I shake my head.  
  
"No, sorry. Never came here before. . ."  
  
Something tells me that is a lie.  
  
~*~  
  
We continue on again, with Link in the lead now, and I can't help but let my thoughts drift in the silence. The vision I had. . .Link seemed very different in it. . .And something was definitely troubling him.  
  
[Enough for him to fall off a cliff.] I wince at the thought, the sound he made upon impact echoing through my head. . .At least, I know, that at the Time of that vision, I was still around him. . .I could prevent it. . .I could.  
  
I should.  
  
Shouldn't I?  
  
We finish climbing up the incline, and turn right on to another little ledge. Before we can actually make it anywhere, though, another one of those strange plant creatures suddenly emerges from another bulb, almost perfectly hidden in small bushes. Link, again, with two quick swipes, disposes of the creature. It dies with an annoying, screeching death cry - loud enough to hurt my ears.  
  
Now, we have reached the banks of the river that forms that waterfall. . .There's no other side to cross to, though there is an island in the water. Without any hesitation, Link jumps to it, landing somewhat gracefully in the center. I follow, landing without trouble on the small piece of land. There is another to which Link jumps, and again I am right behind him - though this one is far smaller, and I almost knock him off.  
  
It is oddly quiet here. . .I would have expected another one of those plants, or two, but there is nothing. . .Across from us now is another waterfall, but much shorter than the other one. There is no other way to go, except up it, which wouldn't be hard. It is only a few feet tall, and the water isn't that deep.  
  
I drop into the waist deep water, walking forward through the swift currents. Luckily, I am tall enough that the water doesn't just sweep me away, and since Link is almost the same height as me, it is not surprising that when he follows, I hear no cursing of lost footsteps.  
  
Again my mind begins to settle back on to the vision I had, despite my efforts at keeping it in the present. I do not remember all that much of the vision, except that there was something severely bothering Link, and that he sounded on the verge of insanity. . .And the way he fell, too, will be forever imprinted in my mind.  
  
//// "Get away Sheik. . .Get a. . .way. . ." Link takes a staggering step backwards, and I hear yet more rocks crumble, preparing to fall. . ., "Get. . .AWAY!" Suddenly, the ground gives from beneath him, and I can only watch - my body far to slow - as my best friend topples over backwards. . .I race to the edge, too late, but I must try anyway. . .\\\\  
  
The image comes back sharply into my mind, along with the thoughts that accompanied it. Best friend? I take a quick glance behind me at Link, who is currently mutter while trying to get his boot unstuck from something or another underneath the water. Best friend? I've never had a. . .a friend, never mind a best friend. . .  
  
That can't be right. I must be mistaken. . .I can't remember much of the vision, so maybe I just twisted that one part around. Yes, that makes sense. . .I've never had a best friend, and it will be a cold day in Hell when I do. . .  
  
Best friend. Friend.  
  
I don't know why, but the thought is rather appealing. . .  
  
The sound of a sickening crunch fills my mind once more, and I shake my head to force it to be clear. Friend or not. . .Maybe I should journey with Link, a while longer. . .Obviously, something had gone wrong in my vision, and caused Link his death. Now that I have seen what I have, perhaps I could prevent it.   
  
I make my way up the stream, reaching the small waterfall. It is next to no effort at all to climb up on to it, though the rocks are slightly slippery. . .As I wait for Link to catch up to me, I stand in this new pool of water, where the currents are almost non existent. . .The pool forms from a slow running river, that exits from the wall of trees to my right. . .  
  
Funny. . .I never noticed those trees until now. . .  
  
I must be too lost in my thoughts, again. . .  
  
"Should we go in there?" Link asks, and I know instantly where he is talking about. Normally, I'd be somewhat against going into strange dark openings, but. . .There is a surreal sense of peace about this place, calming. . .soothing. . .Something I have never felt before. . .In all my years of traveling, of living, I have never come across true peace. . .I have thought to myself the beauty of some of the locations I have visited, how calm they were, but. . .  
  
Nothing compares to the serenity of this island. . .  
  
On some deep down level, I try to force myself into being more alert, more aware, prepared for battle, but. . .I can't muster it. It just. . .escapes me, as if there was never any need to be ready. . .  
  
Link follows me into the archway of trees without protest. I wonder, is he feeling the same way I do about this place? So calm, so peaceful. . .It's almost like a strange dream. . .  
  
The darkness fades away, showing us the world beyond. a circular area, surrounded by high trees. . .There are smaller ones in this bizarre enclosure, as well. The air is heavy and warm, a common thing in a forest, but it somehow manages not to be stuffy. Instead, it feels like a blanket of warmth and security falling over me, protective. . .The lighting is bad. . .Everything is caught up in a gentle gray-green haze, and small spheres of cream yellow float about in the air. . .Some bouncing about, some with short tails following. . .  
  
The water about my feet is warmer now, and the current has slowed even further. . .The air is filled with the sweet scent of flowers, though dulled so as not to be overpowering. . .  
  
What is this place? Some garden?  
  
I look over to Link to ask him a question, but before I can even say a word he has passed me by, heading further down the stream. I watch him for a moment, a hand outstretched and my mouth opened in silent protest. He makes no sign of even hesitating, and so I run to catch up to him, but I do not move to his side. I follow him closely, a light tint of fear managing to work it's way through the general haze in my head.  
  
No. . .Not fear. . .Caution. . .  
  
There are yet more waterfalls to climb, though in truth they are small enough to just step up. After the second one, the water becomes almost still, pooling about the roots of a giant tree to our left. I pay it little attention, focusing more on the shallow pool.  
  
Beautiful, clear water. . .Clean. . .Small reeds grow at the shores, and one huge lily pad occupies the center. . .The thing is gigantic! It's got to have a diameter of at least ten feet!  
  
Link ignores it, a scowl forming on his face. . .There's something wrong here. . .I glance quickly up at the branches of the highest trees. Is there. . .something up there?   
  
I have no chance to further that thought, as a cry of warning erupts from Link's lips, and before I can blink he has his sword out, looking at the giant tree before us.  
  
Green things are emerging from its surface like warts, but it is when I notice that they are growing at a visible rate, and have EYES that I realize those are no ordinary skin abnormalities. They continue to grow, even as my hands reach down for my daggers, and once they finally leap off the bark of the old tree, Link is already in action.  
  
He runs down the center of them, his sword drawn, splitting the group in two. There must be, oh, at least fifteen, and minus the one he kills at the end of his run before he circles around to his back, he groups them evenly into sets of seven.  
  
Since he is already hacking away at the strange creatures - little green blobs of what appears to be jelly, standing at about three feet tall - on the right, I take that as a sign for me to attack the left side. And I do, rushing into the fray with my daggers ready.  
  
They swarm me, but it is no hard task to cut them down. I run in, and slash one on my left, and then immediately spin around to get one readying to jump me from behind. He goes down instantly, and two more move into his position. I perk my ears to keep an awareness to the locations of the others around me, even as I slash the two before me.  
  
A quick backflip, landing behind the next victim. Two slashes for this one, one diagonally right to left, and another straight up and down. It falls, making a squishing, gurgling sound as it melts down to the ground. I take a moment, in this brief calm - the two remaining things have frozen in fear, but who knows how long that will last? - to glance over at Link. He seems to be doing well, cutting them down with no trouble. . .  
  
But that strange scowl is still on his face. . .  
  
And it worries me. . .  
  
~*~  
  
Damn. . .  
  
My fingers are so cold. . .  
  
So. . .So damn cold. .   
  
I swing the Hellplague again, relishing the warmth that courses through my hand, even as three of my enemies -  
  
[Chus. Green Chus.]  
  
-fly away from me, the blade cutting through their fragile flesh, a thick, gooey substance that reminds me of-  
  
"Jello," I mutter, staring down at a pool of the stuff, body relaxed and the sword in my hand by my side, ". . .Looks like freaken Jello. . ." My attention snaps to as I hear a squelching noise behind me, and I turn, my sword rising up, cutting through the Chu that descends down upon me. It dies in mid air, and I am instantly reminded of the enemy I used to fight in Termina. . .They were much like these Chus, weren't they?  
  
I can't really remember. . .  
  
Most of the Time I spent in that strange, Hyrule-wannabe land is hazy and blurred. . .  
  
I spin ninety degrees to my left, thrusting the Hellplague through the Green Chu there. It vanishes around my blade, melting and forming another pool on the ground, its death gurgle strangely pleasing to my ears.  
  
Once it is gone, the ground is soaking wet with these puddles of green slime, and I jump out of the one in which I unwittingly stood, the smell reminding me of. . .Of. . .  
  
[Potions. . .Green Potions. . .Disgusting. . .]  
  
I take a few more steps back, watching as the slime is slowly washed away into the pool. I raise a hand to cover my nose, and look up in Time to see Sheik walk over towards me. . .Good to see that he is safe, and that all the Chus were dead, even though they were an easy kill.  
  
He nears me, stepping on to the lily pad - which I now realize I stand on too - and before he can get more than two steps closer, suddenly the ground beneath our feet is moving, fast and swift and I find myself falling backwards, on to my ass. Sheik nearly looses his footing and falls off the damn lily pad. . .  
  
Wait, is it just the lily pad moving?  
  
I leap up again to my feet and grabbing the hilt of my sword on the way up, glad that the thing has stopped moving. All my mind can register is the idea of a trap, Something blatantly obvious-  
  
{PUT DOWN YOUR FIRE WEAPON!}  
  
The deep voice, booming and echoing in my mind, causes me to flinch and fall to the ground. . .Dropping the sword on the way down. It stays on the lily pad, but as soon as my body looses contact with it I realize just how cold my hands are. . .I'm on my knees, cradling my hands to my chest, eyes tightly shut.  
  
I risk a quick glance, first at Sheik (who is covering his ears, though that's not a big surprise, the voice was loud) and then in the direction of the speaker-  
  
The Great Deku Tree?  
  
I stand up slowly, shock clearly written on my face. . .And the old tree, the 'sprout' I had left behind so long ago must recognize me, as the anger falls from his wooden features. . .  
  
You know. . .It still surprises me that trees can have emotions. . .  
  
{You. . .Is that you, Hero?} Sheik throws me a sharp glance, but I ignore it, staring instead at the tree, {How. . .How is it possible? After all these years. . .How do you still live? It has been. . .}  
  
"Six. . .Six hundred years. . ." I mutter, obviously loud enough for Sheik to hear, as he turns and faces me with visible disbelief in his Sheikah eyes.  
  
{So, so long. . .And yet, you are the Hero. . .I can see it in your eyes. . .} The kindly gaze of the Great Deku Tree studies me, and I can feel the usual waves of hatred, revulsion at the idea that anyone would dare-  
  
. . .  
  
Would dare study me?   
  
I fight to keep my face calm, not to show the questions that are raging through my mind.  
  
Dare?  
  
DARE? As. . .As if I'm higher than other people? That I can even begin to consider myself in such a manner?  
  
I shudder with self loathing. . .  
  
{Hero? Are you alright?}  
  
"Y-yeah," I'm fine, I'm fine. . .I'm just cold, "I'm alright," I reply, cupping my cold hands together, "Really." The Great Deku Tree continues to look concerned.  
  
"Link?" Sheik begins, and I turn to face him and immediately wish I hadn't, "What do you mean? Six HUNDRED years? What the Hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Sheik. . .I," I pause and raise a hand to scratch the back of my neck in nervousness, secretly relishing the warmth that seeps into my hands, though faint, "I-"  
  
{Yes, Hero, I'd like to hear this too.}  
  
I drop my head in defeat, worried about many things now. . .How Sheik is going to react to my past. . .I don't want him to hate me. . .To be scared of me. . .  
  
[Normal Hylains don't live six hundred years and not age a day.]  
  
"It. . .It all started quite some Time ago. . .I guess I should start from the beginning. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
"I grew up in a forest of children. . .Kokiri, we were called. Eternal children. . .I lived and played all day, never aging. . .Or so I thought. . .One day, the Great Deku Tree-" Link points to the Giant Talking Tree, "-Not him, but his predecessor- sent a fairy to me, to be my partne-"  
  
"Whoa," I say, vaguely aware that I'm revealing my emotions far too easily, "A FAIRY?"  
  
Link bows his head, as if with embarrassment, "Yes, A fairy. . .She was to be my partner, to guide me throughout my life. . .But she asked me to come see the Great Deku Tree, saying that it was urgent. . .I didn't know why he would want to see me, a no body. . .But I did as I was told."  
  
Link looks back up at me, his haunting gaze of an unknown blue serious. . .and sorry, as if apologizing, "He asked me to clear the evil inside him. . .And after acquiring a sword and a shield, I went inside him. . .And fought a monster. . .A giant parasite. . ."  
  
"When I came back out, I found out that my efforts were in vain. . .The Great Deku Tree was too far gone, but he gave me what he called a 'Spiritual Stone' and told me to go find the Princess of Destiny-"  
  
"Princess of Destiny. . .? Link, what have you been eating? You sick or something?" I ask with a mostly joking tone. A quick glance at the tree can tell me that Link's telling the truth. . .  
  
"-I searched for her," he continues, ignoring my questions, "And when I found her, she sent me on a quest, saying that she had a dream of evil. . .Goddess, how I thought that she was wrong. . .That it was just a dream. . ."  
  
The hopelessness of that tone tells me that this is not the Link I am used to talking. No, this is the real Link, and that he's been hiding himself. . .There is long forgotten terror in his tone, haunting and terribly real, but something tells me that this was the easier part of his journeys. . .  
  
"I found the other stones. . .But not before hard, long battles. . .When I walked back to the castle that day. . .I hoped that the dangers were all over. . .But seeing Zelda flee the castle, followed by Ganondorf, the one she feared was evil, I knew things were all but right. . .But I did as I was told, I took the ocarina, and headed to the Temple of Time. . ."  
  
"Little did I know what was awaiting me. . ." Link mutters, shaking his head, his eyes closed.  
  
"I entered the Temple, played the songs. . .And I woke up. . ." At my quisitive glance he shrugs, "I didn't know what was going on, either. . .I remembered something about picking up a sword, but that was it. . .I later found out that I was frozen in Time for seven years. . ."  
  
"I now had the Sword of Evils Bane. . .Apparently the one thing that could defeat Ganondorf, and end his reign of terror. . .I was shocked by what I saw. . .The grass was pale with death, the winds were always cold, the sky was black. . .The people were for the most part, dead."  
  
"I was sent off to unseal the Sages in their temples, to gain the necessary power to defeat Ganondorf. . .It took a long Time, but I did it. . .And during all that, I found out why I aged, why I could leave the forest. . .My mother was a Hylain. . .And I was actually an orphan of war. . ."  
  
Orphan of war. . .Why does that suit Link so well?  
  
"I fought with Ganondorf, saved the princess, and the day was saved," he says with a bit of dark humor in his voice, "But the land itself was. . .Dead. The people, dead or mourning. . .The Princess sent me back, to when I was a child. . .To regain my lost Time. . .Biggest mistake she ever made. . ."  
  
"I was a child again, but in body only. . .My mind remained the same. . .I was a killer, a murderer, in a child's body. . .It was a very disturbing thought. . .I was deeply bothered by it. . .A child murderer. . ."  
  
Link. . .You don't seem. . .You aren't a murderer. . .  
  
~*~  
  
A/N - To be continued. . .  
  
Yeah, I meant to go on further, but it was getting a fair length and I am running short on time. . .So I'll continue with Link's tales of Termina AND Hell, next time! ^^ 


	43. Chapter XLII Past and Current Times

**Act I - Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter XLI - Past and Current Times_  
  
----------  
  
"The Hero rose through Hate and Hell,  
  
And a bitter light he did see  
  
Death on his empty horizon,  
  
And he realized, it was his destiny"  
  
-Mindless gibberish I made up a long time ago. . .Sorta fits, I guess. . .Since this chapter is on Hell. . .  
  
----------  
  
"I didn't know what to do. . .I was all alone now. I found all of my old friends, but none of them knew who I was." Saria. . .she didn't remember either. . .My new attitude scared her so badly. . .She didn't understand. . .couldn't, "I was. . .bored. I was hooked on action and adventure-" and bloodshed. . ., "-and now I had nothing. What was I to do?"  
  
No one offers an answer to my question, and the silence that follows is strong and oppressive. I wait, though I don't know why, hesitating to continue. Maybe, I'm stalling because I want one of them to say something, anything? Encouragement, or scorn? Does it even matter right now?  
  
[_Sheik. . .please, say something. . .anything. . .I don't want you to hate me. . ._]  
  
There is not much I can read in the pair of crimson eyes, but. . .  
  
I don't see any hate. . .  
  
I don't think so, anyway.  
  
So I continue.  
  
"I. . ._wanted_ to fight again," I say, inwardly wincing at the sound of that sentence. It sounds so. . .wrong, "And with no where left to explore in my homeland, all I could do was travel. . .The one place I hadn't been was deep in the Lost Woods. . .Farther than I had ever gone before."  
  
A shiver runs up my spine, as I remember being ambushed by the two fairies and that skull kid. . .  
  
"I was. . .There was a surprise attack, and I went unconscious. . ." What happened after that? "Then. . .then I saw the. . .no," I mutter quietly, frowning slightly as I sift through my suddenly hazy memories, "No. . .I was. . .I lost my ocarina. . .And I had to find it in a town. . .Clock Town. . ."  
  
----------  
  
I watch with growing concern as Link's words grow quieter and weaken. . .His eyes are unfocused, aimed somewhere at the ground near my feet, looking but not seeing. Something is not right. . .He's struggling for the words. . .  
  
". . .Termina. . .The land was called T-Termina. . ." he raises a hand to his temple, rubbing there slightly, ". . .I had to find the four Guardians, and. . .and. . .fought on the m-moon," suddenly, Link sways before falling forward. I spring into action and grab him quickly. He's somewhat limp in my arms, both of his hands holding his head now.  
  
"I. . .mask. . .Majo-" his body gives a quick jolt, as if an electric shock has just run through him, and I hold his suddenly frail body right against mine. He's shaking, shivering as he tries to continue. I don't let him.  
  
"Link," I mutter, interrupting him. He doesn't seem to hear me, "Link, what's wrong?"  
  
"I. . .I don't - can't - remember," he mumbles, his eyes wide, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of his head.  
  
What is going on here?  
  
"Then. . .Then don't try to. . .just skip to where your memories are clearer," I say, still with my arms around him. We've sunk to our knees, Link nearly doubled over, and me to his left, trying to quell his shaking.  
  
He's breathing deeper now, not speaking but just trying to relax. I can feel his body slowly un-tense beneath my arms, and his hands are lowered from his temples. A few more rough breaths as he gently straightens, his eyes coming back into focus. I sit back, and watch with some dismay that it takes a moment for his eyes to track me. . .But he seems to be getting better.  
  
"I. . ." he begins, looking confused but not in the same manner as earlier, "I'm sorry. . .I don't know what that was all about," he gives his forehead a light rub, "I just. . ."  
  
{_Do not worry about it, Hero,_} the Giant Tree's voice booms both in my mind and in the air, {_If it is necessary, you may relay the rest to us later. . .Just, continue, please._}  
  
Link nods, setting his gaze upon mine, and then back at the Giant Talking Tree, "After I. . .left Termina-" a flash of pain and confusion races through his eyes, almost enough to make me rush to his side again, but he just shakes his head, his eyes closed, and when he reopens them, he continues flawlessly, "I was again alone. . .But this Time in a land without any friends, really. I was a child, and I had to protect myself, and survive. I needed money for food, but there was no job that anyone would hire me for. . .so, I went and did the one thing I could do. . ."  
  
----------  
  
"I became a mercenary," I say, subconsciously rubbing my hands together, "It was the one thing I was any good at. The people didn't believe me at first, thinking that it was impossible for a child to do what they couldn't." I shiver lightly, the cold in my hands becoming stronger. . .I let one hand trail down to the hilt of the Hellplague, letting the warmth spill through my fingers willingly.  
  
"I proved them wrong."  
  
"Many years passed without anything really changing," I shrug, "Somewhere around ten years I think. . .Which would make me around twenty, I guess." Ten years as a mercenary. . .Those were probably some of the best, and easiest years of my life. . .Each day was so. . .Neutral. There was no fight against some evil, there was no true need to save anyone. . .everyone.  
  
"Everything, in it's own bizarre way was fine. . .If a little strange, and though I did miss my home and those who I left behind. . .I could cope. Fine. Things had been worse."  
  
"But one day. . .I was offered a chance to 'go home'. A portal opened before me. . .And, without knowing where it truly led, I jumped in. . .And so, I came across the world known as Sanctuary." I flex my fingers slightly, increasing my grip on the sword. As if understanding my need, more heat enters my hands.  
  
"What could be so bad with a place called Sanctuary?" Sheik asks, probably noticing the look on my face. . .the look I try so hard to hide, "It sounds rather. . .peaceful, nice, to me."  
  
I shudder involuntarily, remembering my first glimpses of the war torn land. . .A world which could not decide its rulers. . .Hell, or Heaven. . .Corpses strewn about, worse than anything I had ever seen during the fight against Ganondorf. . .  
  
"Sanctuary is," I say to Sheik, still trying to keep my thoughts focused and away from the destruction that I faced, "where Hell is. . .It's the same world."  
  
"Oh," he replies, his voice strangely blank. He sounds like he wishes to say more, but nothing else comes from his mouth. . .I do take comfort though, for in his eyes I see the slightest hints of concern.  
  
"I arrived at this new place. . .It was bleak, and nearly dead. . .The skies were always grey, clouded over constantly. The grass for the most part, dead. The people were dismayed, discouraged, and hopeless. The dead walked the land, killing those who could no protect themselves, gathering into masses that would scavenge the outlying areas. . .The air smelled of rotten flesh and burnt villages and _blood_. . ."  
  
I give my head a quick shake, bringing me out of my flashback. . .I didn't mean to got that deep with my words, but it is hard not to remember. . .  
  
"I'm sorry. . .Got a little caught up there," I mumble with a nervous, false smile on my face. How I wish not to face what comes ahead. When Sheik finds out. . .About Diablo, Baal, Mephisto. . .The reason Tyrael sealed me, and why he was after me. . .  
  
__Hero?_ the echoing voice asked, pulling me from my deep slumber, in which I was still trying to completely recover from my wounds, _I have a proposition for you, Hero. . .  
  
"What happened there?" Sheik asks, the curiosity just dripping from his voice.  
  
"A lot. . .A lot of things I would care not to remember-"   
  
[_Amplisa. . ._]  
  
[_You KILLED her!_]  
  
The sound of blood spraying and muscles ripping apart. . .Of bones breaking. . .Ligaments tearing, the monsters crying out with their victory. . .her limp, dead body falling with a fleshy noise to the ground below. . .  
  
[_I. . .I couldn't save her. . ._]  
  
[_You could have. . .You DIDN'T._]  
  
"Link?" Sheik's quiet whisper brings me back to reality, and I offer him a strained smile. . .Trying to make it seem like everything is alright. . .  
  
"I don't want to remember all that much of it. . .But I will tell you what is important. The. . . Well, I'll tell you all that I know. . .Apparently, before I came, there was a town, named Tristram. . ."  
  
----------  
  
"And one day, somehow in the depths below the church, I think, an evil began to grow. . .I don't know too much, except that a hero appeared, and defeated the evil, which just happened to be a Prime Evil, one of the greatest monsters that ever lived. It was Diablo, the Lord of Terror. The hero managed to slay the demon, and seal its immortal spirit in a Soul Stone. . ."  
  
I watch Link speak. . .noticing vaguely how his hand reaches up, and rubs the small jewel that hangs from the string around his neck, while the other is clutching tightly the hilt of his sword. . .He speaks with clarity, though his descriptions are vague. I can easily hear his nervousness, he doesn't want to talk about this. . . Old fears and horrors fill his gaze.  
  
"The hero knew that he could not let someone get their hands on the stone, as they would surely be corrupted. . .so, he took the stone, and plunged it into his own head. The stone was trapped with the hero that defeated its spiritual resident. The hero, having succeeded, made his way back to the surface, to the city, where he stayed in peace. . ."  
  
"But within a few weeks Time, he was tormented relentlessly by his prisoner. . .He would awake in the night, screaming. . .Then, one day, the town burned down. And the hero was no where to be seen."  
  
"He wandered the land, and demons and ghouls followed in his wake, reigning chaos behind him. . . No one knew what to do."  
  
While I listen in closely to what the half breed says, I can't help but notice the haunted light in his eyes. . .What happened, Link? How are you involved with this. . .These demons?  
  
"That is about when I arrived. . .I came, and when it was figured out that I could defeat the demons, and that I actually stood a fighting chance, the people asked me to fight for them. I did, thinking it was the right thing to do. . .First, I fought all the way to the Monastery, and down into Andariel's lair. . .Her minions were blocking the passage to the deserts of the west, preventing anyone from following the hero. . .Now known as the Dark Wanderer."  
  
"I entered the deepest regions of the catacombs, rather confident. I had made it this far, I thought, and I have fought demons before. How could I lose?. . .I was too confident. . ."  
  
Too confident?  
  
"The battle that ensued was harsh and unimaginable. . .I only survived by shooting my arrows through a torch. . .She was weak to fire, and by shooting flaming arrows, I was able to defeat her. The fire consumed her flesh, and that was how Andariel, the Maiden of Anguish, one of the Lesser Evils, died."  
  
There is a long silence, in which Link shakes his head and says nothing, only looks down at the lily beneath us. . . He looks almost ashamed, though I cannot imagine why. I could understand fear, or hatred even, but shame? How could he be ashamed of a victory over a demon?  
  
Now, even more than before, I wonder how I could have possibly bested him in battle.  
  
"I. . .I traveled to the west, with a caravan headed to a desert city called Lut Gholein. . .A fine, rich land, right along the edge of the ocean" Link states, giving us only the briefest of background information. I don't blame him, this must be hard and he probably wants to get through it as soon as possible, ". . .I was told that it was rumored that the Dark Wanderer, under Diablo's control, was going to release another one of the Prime Evils - Baal, the Lord of Destruction-"  
  
"Is that the same thing we met, in Hell?" I ask, the words slipping my lips before I even have a change to cut them off. Link looks solemnly at me, before slowly nodding his head.  
  
"The very same. He was once a great mage of an old race - the Horadrim. He, Tal Rasha, was. . .Was the holder of Baal. Baal's Soul Stone was implanted into his heart, and slowly the great mage changed. . ."  
  
----------  
  
"By the Time I made it to the Tomb of Tal Rasha, I was far too late. . .Diablo left Duriel, one of the Lesser Evils behind as an attempt to stop me. Duriel, the Lord of Pain, was a dangerous fight. . .There was no where to run in the tiny space, and it's slug like body was far faster than mine, and much more powerful. . ."  
  
Duriel. . .Sliding over the broken, aged stone flooring, his ten tiny legs moving his large behind, while the front portion of his body was reared upright, slimy and muscular. His two forearms were like scythes, and his head, tiny and nearly insignificant, sat atop his neck, mouth filled with rows of sharp teeth.  
  
_{_Looking for Baal?_}_ _the booming, yet hissing voice laughs, {_You're too late!_} More laughter. . .I can't see in the dark. There's the sound of shuffling, something's moving. Oh, Goddesses, the sound is fleshy and moist. . .The scurrying of many tiny feet - bug like feet, picking away at the stone floor below as they come toward me. . .  
  
I HATE bugs. . .ever since I came to this place. . .The way they crawl all over me while I sleep, waking up to the stinging sensations they leave behind. . .Their bite marks covering my body. . .  
_  
_But this. . .This was no average bug. . ._  
  
_I spin around, lighting my torch aflame with what energy I have left, and face. . .  
  
The damn biggest, ugliest bug I have ever seen in my life. . .  
_  
_Large, brown with red smears, towers the Demon. . .It's hideous white slug like behind is pulled about by it's ten legs, it's upper body protected by two larger ones. . .Well muscled, unbelievably tall. . .Twice my height. . .Huge muscles. . .Grinning jaw smiling down at me, protected by two large mandibles, looking easily able to crush my body right in two. . .  
  
Oh. . .Farore. . .  
_  
I shiver, continuing, "I. . .I managed barely to defeat him. . .And as soon as I made it back through the burning desert sands, I caught a ride on a boat, heading to a land called Kurast. I was sick and injured, and it took me the entire trip to heal. . .Duriel was far stronger than Andariel. . .I still have the scars from his attacks. . .As soon as the boat landed, I was again off. . .chasing Diablo and Baal. . .Their human forms all but gone."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sheik asks me, arching an eyebrow. Whatever concern was previously on his face is now gone, replaced only with a dark curiosity. . .Despite how well he seems to be believing and understanding all of this, I don't think he truly realizes how dangerous it was. . .  
  
"The Prime Evils were held inside their bodies by their Soul Stones, and thus the spirits leaked into them, changing them. . .They. . .well, you saw Baal. . .He used to be a normal person, and I wouldn't be surprised if he continued to change further. . ."  
  
I raise my gaze, looking first at the Great Deku Tree, and then at Sheik, "I met up with their newly released brother in a temple. . .Mephisto. . .It was Time that I fought a true demon. . .A Prime Evil."  
  
I immediately lower my gaze again, heat in my cheeks, "I. . .I am rather embarrassed of that fight. I didn't have what it takes to defeat one of them. . .All I could do was slash at him a few Times, run, hide, ambush, and then run again. . .It was so. . .so. . .cowardly. . .I-"  
  
"Link, fighting a demon isn't cowardly," Sheik says, drawing my attention to him, "It's. . ._anything_ but that." His voice sounds wary, yet encouraging, but I can only see his curiosity growing, but now followed by worry. . .And not for me. . .  
  
I nod, "but. . .the way I fought it. . .I'm sorry, I'm straying. I defeated the demon, just like all those before it. Mephisto, Lord of Hatred, fell before me. . .It was an exhilarating feeling. I had to wait for the effects of his poisonous breath to wear off, but immediately afterward, I was off, ready to face my next challenge. . .Diablo and Baal had left long before, going through a portal across a bridge of bones that lead straight into Hell. . ."  
  
"I followed. . .There, for the second Time, I met Tyrael, the Arch Angel, and this Time with enough chance to study him. . .He told me of what Diablo was doing, and where he was, and that I had to stop him. Tyrael sent me first, however, to destroy Mephisto's Soul Stone. . ."  
  
_I climb up the steps leading under the marbled arches of what must be Heaven's Fortress. . .There is a mysterious humming noise there, growing louder with each step I take up. . .I am tired, bleeding, sore. . .Mephisto has injured me. . .And I don't know how much farther I can go. . .  
  
There, at the top, my eyes widen. . .Tyrael. . .Robed in gold, floating slightly off the ground, his wings billowing out behind him elegantly. . .If I weren't so tired, I might have actually gasped in shock. . .  
  
He raises his head from it's downward gaze, contemplating gesture, looking at me in a moment of long quiet silence. I can feel an aura coming off of him. . .It feels like. . .Worry? I raise my tired head again, unaware of when I had let it droop, staring up at that faceless cowl. . .  
  
"Hi. . .Tyrael. . ."  
_  
"I made it. . .It was hard, guarded by a Demonic Smith. . .But I did it. . .I took the hammer to the stone, and. . .It shattered. . .Spirits broke free from the stone, whirling about as if possessed, dancing and screaming," I close my eyes, trying so hard to block out the thoughts that rage through me at that thought. . . The noise. . .The _SCREAMS_. . .Souls screaming in hatred and fear, wanting no more than revenge, to quell their anger. . .  
  
"Without the spirits, the stone broke as if glass, and thus Mephisto is dead, forever. . .He can never walk again. . .But I was not finished. There was still Diablo to contend with. . .I had him cornered now. . .There was no where else to go. . .No place deeper than Hell itself. . .He was trapped with no way out, the chase was at an end. I went, exhausted and bleeding, deep into the bowels of Hell, to the Chaos Sanctuary -" I turn my attention solely to Sheik, "-it was not like when we were down there. . .Back then, there were far more monsters, all the way there. The place was filled."  
  
"Yes," he replies, his expression unreadable, though I do not like it, "I saw the bones. . .There must have been many."  
  
I nod, "Yeah, more than enough. . .Anyway, I finally met with Diablo, and we fought. . ."  
  
"He had no resemblance to what I had seen of him earlier. . .when he was still partly human. Now, he was nothing more than a large red lizard, walking upright. He taunted me, laughed at me. . .He still had his intelligence, but nothing else. . .Large black spikes emerged from his back, his talons were huge. . ." I pull down on the neck of my sweater, revealing the large red scar there, "He gave me this. . .Cut almost right through my neck. . .I would have died, if it were not for Tyrael. . ."  
  
_{_A present. . .for the infidel. . .You'll enjoy it, even if it doesn't kill you,_}_ _his scaly lips change into something akin to a grin, {_If you manage to escape with your life, give Tyrael my love_,_ okay_?} There's the sound of snarling laughter behind his closed lips, and Diablo charges again.  
_  
"He. . .rescued me. . .Healed me, but then. . .He proposed that I. . ." I swallow roughly, closing my eyes, "That I be sealed away. . .for all eternity. . ."  
  
----------  
  
Sealed. . .Away?  
  
"Link?" I ask, "What. . .Why?" My mouth has gone dry, with the knowledge that whatever reason an angel wanted to seal away Link, it would have to be a good reason. . .Angels don't just go about sealing everyone. . .  
  
He looks up at me, slowly, hesitant, his gaze pained, "Tyrael. . .He said that I. . .I was tainted by Diablo's influences. . .That I had to be put away. . .That I was dangerous," he shakes his head in denial, almost violently, "But I wouldn't! I swear!. . .I would have fought back," he says, losing the vigor his voice had only moments ago, the sound filling me with dread, "But. . . I was injured, and. . .Well, depressed, I suppose. . .I thought that there was no way for me to get home, now. . .not after all that happened. . .And that maybe, it would be better if I was sealed away. . ."  
  
"But, just before they sealed me. . .I felt something strange. . .Through what residues of my Triforce-"  
  
The word itself is enough to temporarily drag my thoughts away from the Demons and the Angels, "Wait a minute. . .You never explained that. Mind doing so?"  
  
Link sighs, and I realize just how hard all of this has been on him, "I. . .When I was still in Hyrule, when I fought Gannondorf, he managed to get a hold of the Triforce. . .But, it didn't stay with him. . .It split into three pieces. The Triforce of Power, Courage, and Wisdom. . .He got Power, the Princess got Wisdom, and I got Courage. When I left Hyrule. . .When I went to Termina. . ." his eyes clench again, and I move slightly toward him, worried about a possible repeat of that strange event from earlier, but my fears prove groundless, "My Triforce left me. I thought it was completely gone, but. . ."  
  
He raises his hand, and takes off his glove. On the back of his hand is the symbol of Triforce, completely dimmed, except for a thin line around the triangle that represents courage. Its golden glow is burning brightly, pulsing almost. . .As if it grows and fades with each beat of his heart. . .The inside of that piece of the Triforce is just as dim as the other triangles on his hand.  
  
"When I was sealed, suddenly, I knew something bad was happening in Hyrule. . .I think this is how I knew, that somehow I got some sort of feeling from my Triforce, but. . .It was too late. Tyrael wouldn't listen to me. . .And, I was sealed away. . ."  
  
He lowers his hand, a tinge of anger in his eyes, "I was trapped for six hundred years. . .Six hundred years. . .Trapped all alone beneath the very Monastery where my adventures in Sanctuary began! Below the ground where I fought Andariel. . . I, like those before me, the Prime Evils, was sealed in my tomb through ancient rituals and with my very own Soul Stone," He lifts the gem on his necklace for both the Great Tree and I to see, "This, is my Soul Stone," he says, "Tyrael used it to seal me. . .But I have it now. . .I won't let him have it back."  
  
"Isn't the Soul Stone corrupting you?" I ask, curious. I force my eyes to remain neutral as possible, but. . .I do not know how well I am succeeding. . .Sealed away, sealed away. . .Because an Angel feared he could become a menace. . .A monster. . .Same as those he had slain. . .He gains a brief smile (first real one since this conversation started).  
  
"No. It is my own spirit in here. . .Not that of Diablo or Baal or any other demon. Just me." He closes his eyes, that smile not fading, "Its mine. . .I can't be corrupted by my own soul."  
  
His eyes open, happier than before but still haunted. . .I wonder briefly how much he hasn't told us, "After I was sealed. . .A long Time afterward, I found a way to get my soul to wander about. . .I'm not sure if it was just an illusion, or an actual separation, but either way, it worked. I was able to find someone to. . .help me escape. I was freed, and well. . .I headed back to Hell. I thought that something had to be amiss, as there were still monsters running about in some areas. That's, of course, where I met you, Sheik."  
  
"Interesting," I mumble, trying to absorb all that I have heard. . .Link, a monster? Tainted? Tainted by demons? Damned by an Angel to be eternal sealed beneath the earth, to rot away for millenniums at a time. . .? Is Tyrael right for fearing Link that badly. . .?  
  
And what of the lies that Link has told me? Obviously, it was not just as Link said, when he argued with Tyrael. . .My very life could have been (and maybe still is) in severe danger, and he did not utter a word of warning! He lied to me. . .I thought that. . .That. . .A monster. . .Link. . .If he is tainted-  
  
A monster?  
  
Maybe he is. . .I saw the way he fights. . .No one loves battle that much. . .

Inadvertently, my mind is immediately drawn to that time, right after Tyrael chased us, when Link got sick. . .Was there something more to that? Getting sick for no real reason. . .That must have something to do with all of this. . .  
  
I wonder. . .  
  
----------  
  
I cringe when I see the look of contemplative hate on Sheik's face. . .Maybe it isn't directed at me. . .Will he be mad with me, for everything I didn't tell him?  
  
"Sheik," I say, my voice terribly small, "Please, don't be mad. . .Don't hate me, I didn't want you to hate me. . ."  
  
"I. . .Link, you _should_ have told me," he says in a light whisper, his brow tightening into a frown, "you should have told me. . ."  
  
"I. . .I-"  
  
"Did you plan on hiding it forever? Did you ever plan on telling me the damn truth?"  
  
"I. . .I. . .I'm sorry," I say, "I'm so_ sorry_, I didn't know what to tell you-"  
  
"So you just _weren't _going to tell me?" I can see him scowling now, anger in his eyes, "You told me that Tyrael thought you were a menace. . .I didn't realize you really are. . .I can't believe I _trusted _you." The anger deepens, coming close to a dark hate.  
  
While Sheik's words are not in all reality that harsh, they still manage to hurt me. . .He sounds like he hates me. . .What. . .What I am, he hates me. . .  
  
"I'm sorry," I repeat, standing up slowly, grabbing the hilt of the Hellplague in my hands on the way up. Even my current sadness can do nothing to drown out the feeling of warmth that courses through my fingers, and if the situation were even a bit lighter, I'd smile from the feeling. . ."I d. . .I didn't _mean_ to. . ." I bow my head with my shame, walking over toward the edge of the lily pad, before jumping down. I land in the shallow water with a light splash, getting my clothes wet. I don't care, though. . .Instead, I walk back the way we came, toward the ocean.  
  
I need some Time to think. . .  
  
----------  
  
{_You shouldn't be mad with him, Sheikah._}  
  
"And why shouldn't I?" I snap, mildly amused that I'm arguing with a giant tree, "He didn't tell me. He lied to me. . .Am I supposed to just pretend that didn't happen?" Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize that I am letting my emotions get out of control (me, a Sheikah? Hah!), but I can't help it. . .He lied. . .  
  
The Tree sighs, {_I am sure, Sheikah, that you knew this would not be easy on him. . .Besides, what evil has he done?_}  
  
Suddenly, the anger in my mind begins to cool. I can feel it, the anger that I have tried so desperately to hold on to unraveling quickly, "Well. . .Nothing. . .Yet. Who knows what he may do?"  
  
{_Exactly. . .Who knows, indeed. . ._}  
  
This sudden change of direction catches me completely by surprise, "Wait, what?"  
  
{_Who knows what he may be capable of? He may, indeed, cause so much pain and agony. . .But, he may also do the opposite. . .I cannot foresee the future, and I have doubt that you have seen that far ahead, else wise you would already know of what I speak._}  
  
"And just what are you trying to say?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.  
  
{_That whatever will come, will come. . .You could only make it worse by abandoning him._}  
  
"How so?"  
  
{_By leaving him all by himself, you would be condemning him to regret. Regret causes anger, anger revenge. . .He would be out to harm those who harmed him. . .Even if they did not deserve it. If he is to lose control of his rationality, like those others he spoke of, then abandoning him would only make him hate. To have a steady support. . ._}  
  
"Are you saying that the only way to prevent this is for me to stay with him?"  
  
{_Yes. Most likely._}  
  
"And what if one night he goes insane, and kills me in my sleep? He didn't TELL me. . .How can I trust him?"  
  
{_He is showing no true signs of insanity right now. . .And besides, that angel he spoke of, Tyrael? This 'Tyrael' could be wrong. He might not be 'tainted' at all. I feel no evil from him. . .But his sword, on the other hand. . ._} I can feel the gaze of the Tree leave me, and linger where Link's sword was resting earlier. . .As if the very presence of the thing left a lasting impression upon the lily pad.  
  
"You can feel it too?" I whisper, my gaze falling down to the surface of the lily pad, my anger forgotten,"I was hoping it was just me. . .I don't like the thing. . .It. . .It _feels_ wrong. . ."  
  
{_Nor do I. . .It is too. . .too aware. . .It is almost as if it has its own consciousness. I do not feel any true evil from it, either, but instead it is reeking of chaos and destruction. How did he come across such a thing? I would not think that such a weapon would allow a being like him to touch it._}  
  
I shake my head, "I do not know. . .He was acting strange for a few days, as if in a trance. He would not talk, would not eat. . .We got attacked, I went unconscious, and the next time I woke up, we were some ways away, and he had it by his side. . ."  
  
{_Indeed. . .I do not like the sound of that. . .It is too. . .too orchestrated. . .What do you make of that strange lapse he had earlier? When he was speaking of that Termina place?_}  
  
I start slightly, realizing I had almost forgotten about his little. . .fit, or whatever. . .I shake my head and shrug, "I do not know. . .I have never seen anything like it before. . .It was almost as if-"  
  
{_-As if someone didn't want him to remember. . ._}  
  
"Yeah. . .But why would someone want to block out Link's memories? And who would be powerful enough to do such a thing?"  
  
{_I know not. . .However, there are alternative possibilities. . .For example, it could be that he simply hit his head, and gave himself a specific amnesia._}  
  
"I. . .I suppose that could be what happened, but. . .I don't think so. Doesn't that wear off after some time?"  
  
{_I know not. . .I have never dealt with human illnesses. . ._}  
  
There's a moment of silence between us, in which I think over what I heard. . .My anger toward the lies. . .I don't think I was really all that harsh, but. . .Link took it hard. . .  
  
"So. . ." I mutter, barely aware that I am speaking, "Is Link. . .Is he really six hundred years old?"  
  
{_More, or less. . .I still do not understand, though, why he still lives. . .And why the new hero looks just like him. . ._}  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
{_A new hero came here, and. . .I thought. . .You shall see, later, for now, we have other things to concern ourselves with. . ._}  
  
"So what should we-"  
  
{_I suggest, Sheikah, that you go and see him. . .Apologize, even, if it is within your capabilities. I have but one request, if you wish to spend any more time in this forest: take care of the Hero. He will need it, that much I am sure. . .Be there for him, if he needs it. Do not abandon him. . .It would only hasten his destruction, if that is his destiny._}  
  
"I. . .Alright. I will stay with him. . .Till the very end."  
  
----------  
  
[_You shouldn't have told them. . .See? SEE? They HATE you! Hate you! Sheik hates you! They'll fear you! It's all your fault! YOUR FAULT!_]  
  
It is. . .isn't. . .It can't always be my fault. . .  
  
"_Admit it, Link_," Malon's voice whispers in my ear. She's been talking to me for a good while now. . .and with every word she says, I drop further into despair, "_You could have prevented all of this. . .The beginning, the ending. . .It is all your fault, your mistake_."   
  
[_But I can't be responsible for-_]  
  
[_YOUR FAULT_ YOUR FAULT!]  
  
"_Stop denying it_," she mutters, and I can see out of the corner of my eye one of her hands grasp my shoulder, "_It is too late for that. . .Face up to it_."  
  
[_No. . .I-I-I-_]  
  
"_Stop your blabbing! You FAILED, Link! This is all your fault. Your WRETCHED FAULT! If it weren't for you, I would be alive, and maybe you would be _with_ me! It's your fault that Amplisa's dead_!"  
  
[_Cold. . .Cold, blood everywhere. . .Cold. . .Screams. . .Death._]  
  
"_Now even they won't trust you! Sheik won't even listen to you now! You can never be friends with him, because no one wants to be friends with you! Hell, even if you came back I doubt I'd be friends with you, never mind be your lover. You know why?_"  
  
"why?" I whisper in a small voice, terrified by the infinite answers.  
  
"_Because you don't deserve it_," she hisses, "_You don't deserve me, you don't deserve Sheik, you don't deserve life_," she cackles quietly in my ear, "_Everyone will hate you, Link. They will see how weak you really are, and then what will you do? What will you do, when there is no where else to run? They will hate you, want you dead. You will too, when the time comes. . .They will make you wish you were never born. . ._"  
  
[_Would have been better that way_-]  
  
"_Yes_," she says, and I can hear her smile in her voice, "_There is nothing you can do. . .You failed everyone and everybody. . .Everyone you have ever loved or befriended has died, Link. . .Amplisa, me. . .All of Hyrule. . ._"  
  
"Hy-Hyrule's not dead," I whisper in an unbelieving voice.  
  
"_No? Look at it!_ LOOK AT IT!" she screams, spinning about, her dress flaring beautifully around her as she turns, laughing into the air. Her arms are up above her head, making her body a bit of a "Y" shape, gesturing to everything around us, _"_LOOK! LOOK LOOK LOOK!_ Is this the home you left behind?_ YOU LEFT BEHIND! IS IT? IS _IT_?_"_  
  
[_No. . .no no no_-]  
  
"_Everyone drowned, Link. Everyone's dead. Everyone you ever cared for is dead! _YOU ARE A HARBINGER OF DOOM! YOU ARE A PLAGUE! A DISEASE! A MONSTER! DEATH, ITSELF!_"_ She laughs madly, finally finishing her spin. She stops, and a moment later, so to does her dress. She raises one hand, calming her laugh behind it, her eyes closed gently.  
  
[_I. . .I didn't. . .I couldn't. . ._]  
  
"_You couldn't save them, Link. You killed them, because you couldn't save them. . ._" she states, calmly, "_You never could. . .Could you? Tell me, could you save your friends from their deaths in the sea_?" She turns away from me, looking out at the ocean, "_Ah. . .The sea. . .So pretty. . . Why couldn't you be like the sea, Link? It is strong, swift. . .resilient. . .You are weak, slow, stupid, and a coward. . ._" She waves an arm out, over the water, "_The sea. . .You were never like the sea. . ._"  
  
"Like the sea. . ." I mutter, now looking out into it's blue green depths. . .In my eyes tingles the feeling of tears, and somewhere deep in my mind I criticize myself for being so weak, and suddenly I notice how weak I feel, how tired I am, "Like the sea. . ."  
  
"_Wouldn't it be nice_?" Malon calmly asks, "_Wouldn't it be nice to join the sea? So quiet, so peaceful. . .Wouldn't you like to join it?_"  
  
I nod wordlessly, standing up and walking to her side. . .The breeze blows then, the strands of my hair dancing as the wind hits my face, cooling the sudden heat there. . .So nice. . .I could lose myself to the wind. . .  
  
"_The wind,_" Malon whispers, acknowledging my thoughts, "_The wind is nice, too. . ._" I nod, the toes of my boots slightly over the edge of the cliff. . .Not a high fall, but big enough that if I were to fall. . .I would surely hurt myself. . .  
  
I look over at my lost love. . .The woman I left behind all those years ago, to die. . .Who's been with me for so long now. . .The wind is blowing through her hair, dancing in the air behind her. . .Her eyes glimmer with the sunlight and tears, staring out at the waters. . .Off at the horizon. . .Hands clasped at her chest. . .She reminds me of the sirens in old legends. . .Those who were supposed to sing men to their doom upon the rocks. . .  
  
"Link?!"  
  
The words are spoken, the illusion broken. . .I turn around slowly, the world seeming to be stuck in a haze. . .Reality has slowed right down. . .Sheik is moving (running? walking?) to my side, grabbing my shoulders, pulling me away from the ledge and the wind and the waves. . .  
  
My stomach churns and aches. . .Nausea runs rampant through my body. . .My bones ache, my muscles suddenly tense and sore. Feels. . .Feels like someone took a hammer to my skull. . .  
  
"Sheik. . .?" I mutter, looking up weakly. . .so hard. . .to focus my. . .eyes. . ., "I. . .d-don't feel so good. . ."  
  
My body goes limp and consciousness slips from my grasp.  
  
----------  
  
{_. . .Wrong?_}  
  
I squirm lightly at the sound - voice? - it seems to be both in my head and around me. . .  
  
"Don't know. . .saw him. . .just collapsed. . ."  
  
That voice. . .is familiar. . .  
  
"This isn't. . .first time it's happened. . ."  
  
{_. . .Other times?_} I shiver at the voice, each booming word seeming to come in Time with the ache from my head. . .I groan, unwillingly, unwittingly. . .  
  
Shaking, someone is shaking me. . .Please, stop that, _please_. . .Every little jolt sends a sharp stab of pain up my spine and into my head. . .  
  
"Link?" A voice whispers in my ear, harsh, and urgent. Worried, "Link??"  
  
A wet something or another is placed upon my head. . .the whole action feeling terribly familiar. . .  
  
[_Cloth. . .wet cloth on your head. . ._]  
  
[_Get up. . .GET UP!_]  
  
"Ugh," I murmur as awareness slowly begins to settle in. . .This. . .all this, seems so familiar. . .Not the same, but familiar. . .I shudder briefly, a sudden chill wracking my body harshly.  
  
"Link, can you hear me?"  
  
I turn slightly, unable to do so completely due to my stiffness and my aches, to see a crimson gaze staring down at me. . .I can't see too well. . .All blurred. . .  
  
"Sheik?" I blink heavily, slowly, "Sheik. . ." Nodding once, gently, to make sure I don't experience any more pain.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asks me, and I watch his lips move. . .The way with each word he speaks. . .his lips move differently, rising and falling, opening and closing in distinct, separate manners-  
  
Another shake, another jolt of pain. . .I groan once more, as reality swims back into focus, everything seeming to become clear. . .  
  
"please. . .Please don't shake me. . .It _hurts_," I say, watching him nod. . .With his help I am able to sit up, but another wave of pain just about causes me to topple over. . .Sheik, however, catches my arm, and supports me, till the pain fades away. . .Once I am again in control of my own actions, I turn very slowly toward him, a questioning light in my eyes. . .  
  
"You aren't mad. . .?"  
  
He shakes his head, the very motion sending my own vision into a moment of dizziness, "No. . ."  
  
[_No. . .not angry, but. . .not happy either. . ._]  
  
I nod at his answer, again causing my vision to spiral out of control, if only for a moment. When my dizziness passes, I again sit up with his help. It's an effort, to say the least, but with Sheik's help, I can do it. . .When I remain at least fairly motionless, I am not bothered by my pain, though the throbbing in my head is almost constantly present. . .  
  
{_Hero, are you alright?_}  
  
The voice causes a tremor to run through my mind, and I wince at the sudden change, squirming even as Sheik holds my shoulders still. . .  
  
"Y-yeah. . .I think. . .What happened?" The pain has left, and I can relax, calm my tense muscles. . .Sit back up, properly.  
  
"I don't know, " Sheik states, "I came outside to find you. . .You were standing at the ledge. . .You turned around, and collapsed."  
  
"I. . .I did?"  
  
{_It. . .It does not matter now, child-_} the strong voice of the Great Deku Tree still causes pain to run through me, though not anywhere near as bad as earlier, {-_If you will let me, I shall tell you of what has been going on for the last while, here in Hyrule_.}  
  
"Y-yeah. . .I'd like to hear that," I say, clearing my throat slightly, "How long was I. . .out?"  
  
"Only a few minutes," Sheik states, looking down at me slightly as I move to sit beside him. Concern, I think, but I just shrug off his look, and turn my attention back to the Great Deku Tree. I notice vaguely that we are again sitting on the lily pad, raised up from the water. The thing is bare, except for Sheik, myself, and a large curled leaf. In it, I can see water, and a cloth. . .  
  
{_Much has changed since you left, Hero. . .Much indeed. . .Around a decade after your departure, Gannondorf escaped from the Sacred Realm. . .The people, without their hero-_}   
  
[_They prayed for you, Link. They PRAYED_-]  
  
[_-And you didn't come! You DIDN'T!!_]  
  
"Link, are you alright?" Sheik asks me in a low voice, practically whispering into my ear as I shudder. I nod, gingerly, relaxing again shortly afterward. . .  
  
[_All my fault. . .I should have been there. . .done something. . ._]  
  
The Great Deku Tree continues on, as if nothing was amiss, {_The people, dismayed, turned to the Goddesses for their salvation. . .And thus, Hyrule was flooded. Those that survived, moved to the top of the mountains, the peaks the only things that remained untouched by the waters. The rest of Hyrule remains under the waters, frozen forever. . .But, no longer._}  
  
"What do you mean?" I ask, looking up at the leader of this forest. . .This empty, desolate forest. . .Saria, oh no. . .  
  
{_Gannondorf somehow escaped. . .And now, a new hero, the Hero of the Winds, is out there, heading back to the old Hyrule. . .But, I do not know how well he'll fare. . ._}  
  
"Why not?" I press, noticing that Sheik hasn't moved or said anything. . .Maybe he's just thinking it over, letting me talk uninterrupted. He looks pretty deep in thought.  
  
{_He is young, Hero, too young. . .And for some reason, this time, the Master Sword did not do what it did to you. . .He is only twelve, Hero. He is far to young to face up to Gannondorf, and live. . .He has made it this far, but that shall not last much longer. . .An ominous cloud of death surrounds his future. . ._}  
  
"And you want me to go help him, right? How am I supposed to do that? I don't have a boat!" I murmur, yawning and rubbing my forehead. . .Farore. . .I'm tired. . .  
  
{_We are in a forest, Hero. . .A boat shall be built. . .And from there, you must ride. . .Ride to the north, to the Tower of the Gods. . .And save the new Hero. . .He cannot stand without your help. . .The endless clouds of darkness shall devour him. . ._}  
  
----------  
  
"He's asleep," I say, wincing slightly as I realize Link has decided that my shoulder would make a nice pillow. I move to push him off, but at the sound of his soft breathing, I frown slightly, and relent. . .Let him use me as a headrest, then. . .See if I care. . .  
  
{_Good. . .He was exhausted. . .He will need the rest._}  
  
"What's wrong with him? Last time he had one of his instant fevers, it lasted much longer than this. This time, it was so short," I take a quick glance at the sleeping half breed, feeling his slight temperature through the very contact between our bodies, "Though, I suppose, he is still feeling the effects of it. . ."  
  
{_I. . .I know not what ails him. . ._} even as the tree spoke, I could again feel a tremor running through Link, and for one moment, his face clenches into a frown, {_But, whatever it is, it is serious. . .I hope you will keep a good eye on him, Sheikah._}  
  
"I will," I say, "But. . .what about this boat? Who's going to make it?" There is a loud splintering noise, a cracking sound, and suddenly, right in front of me and Link, two trees have suddenly tipped over. A quick glance at their base shows me that they were pushed down, though. . .what could have done that?  
  
The Tree smiles, {_You will._}  
  
----------  
  
_A/N : Hahahh! Chapter is complete!. . .Though, a little shorter than I planned. . .  
  
Uh, if the whole Link getting angsty (or what I consider Angsty (just let me know what you think of that, okay? Because if it sucks, then I can fix it up)) didn't seem to fit in very well, just let me know. I tried to fix it up and make it plausible, but I'm not sure how well it worked.  
  
Okay, no, I am not making this a yaoi pairing, their 'friendship' (which it can't even be called that, right now) is slowly getting stronger. Yeah. . .Didn't mean to make it seem that way. If I did, that is. _


	44. Chapter XLIII Ancient Ruins

Act I - Trial of a Man  
  
Chapter XLIII - Ancient Ruins  
  
~*~  
  
Sleeping. . .Goddesses, it is so hard to sleep in here. . .In this cold dark, sitting against the freezing stone wall and the sandy floors, trying so hard to remember around the injuries and sicknesses to why I am here. . .I am always here, in this cold place, it seems. . .Cold and dark and alone, my mind running off in thoughtless tangents. . .  
  
Scrambling. . .A swarm of skittering sounds off in the distance. . .Off somewhere where the sand turns again to stone. . .Bugs, oh goddesses, bugs. . .I hate them!  
  
I arch back against the wall, my chest heaving up into the air silently. . .The bugs. . .The way they try to wriggle their way into my flesh. . .Crawling all over in the dark, waking up to stinging bite marks on my skin. . .slithering all over me, cold slime tracks. . .I can feel the sharp, needle like legs digging into me. . .Goddesses, one of them is CRAWLING on me-  
  
[Shh. . .] A part of me whispers, taking on a motherly tone, [Just your imagination. . .Just the poison. . .Relax-]  
  
[No, damnit!] I think, the delirium obviously increasing its hold, and somewhere deep down inside I laugh at myself, knowing that this is just me and my overreacting. That thought is the only thing that keeps me from going over the edge into full hysteria at the thoughts running through my mind, the only real calm thing left in my head. . .I again arch up more as something crawls its way into my arm, into my veins. . .Fragile flesh pulling and twisting and PUSHING as it digs into me. Burrowing - the creepy sensation of movement within, deep down inside of me, [No! I can't! They'll-!! Oh God, no no NO!!!]  
  
[It's okay. . .It will all be better in the morning. . .Go to sleep. . .] The voice continues, interrupting me with it's patience. . .Sounds like Malon, I note dully. . .But that's impossible. . .She's still in Hyrule. . .Not here, not with me. . .[Rest now. . .]  
  
My body sags back down to the ground, limp against the wall. . .The sweat drips down my face, covering my exposed chest. . .My body is freezing cold in the depths of this tomb. . .The darkness in here. . .Freezing cold, then steaming hot. . .  
  
I finally fall asleep. . .Lulled into a peaceful rest by the rhythmic sound of dripping water. . .far away. . .  
  
~*~  
  
The dream is disturbing. It always is. . .I remember that night, though it is hazy. . .I was in Tal Rasha's Tomb, looking for the Dark Wanderer. . .The walking corpses I fought, they were filled with some chemicals - some poison. . .I was so sick that night. . .In my delirium I thought I was covered by thousands of twisting, squirming insects, all of them trying to get inside me, devour me from within.  
  
My body shudders heavily at that thought, remembering the few times that several bugs did try to worm their way into my body. . .Ah, what an unnerving feeling! The skin bulging at their intrusion. . .  
  
I shake my thoughts clear, slowly coming to full awareness. . .Goddesses, why do my eyes hurt? I rub them hard, trying to ease the pain. . .They are so hard to open, almost throbbing with their own agony. . .And then, suddenly, the pain fades. . .As if it were never there.  
  
I sit up, disbelief running through my mind, and open my eyes. The blast of light that enters my sight is enough to make me groan, my palms again rubbing my again sore eyes - what the hell is wrong with them? - and it takes me a good minute before I can try again, this Time a little more wary. . .  
  
Sitting up, my arms supporting me, I glance out around me, trying to remember exactly where I am. . .It doesn't take too long, seeing as I am laying still on that giant lily pad, the lower half of my body covered by a huge leaf as if in mockery of a blanket. Another leaf has been folded up, and placed where my head had lain, as a pillow. . .The Great Deku Tree does not seem to have noticed my awakening yet, but I don't really care. . .  
  
Where's Sheik?  
  
The sound of running water, suddenly disturbed from its usual noise, and I am able to just catch a glimpse of white bandages peeking up over the ridge of one of the small waterfalls. Soon, up hops Sheik, his back turned to me, carrying some things in his arms. I don't really pay much heed to what it is he is transporting, more interested in his behavior. He doesn't seem to notice I'm awake, as when he came up the waterfall he did so by jumping backwards. . .  
  
He walks towards me, his back still turned, dragging his cargo through the water. I watch him with an eyebrow arched, curious as to what it is he is doing. At last, he moves up onto the leaf, and turns around sharply - jumping ever so slightly once he sees that I am awake and watching him.  
  
"Oh, you're up," he mumbles lightly, turning back to his earlier position - but I can just see that his eyes are watching me, "Sleep well?"  
  
"Um, yeah, I guess. . ." I reply, giving the bridge of my nose a brief rub, "What happened?"  
  
"You collapsed," he says, turning fully towards me with his hands on his hips, looking down, "You collapsed and then I dragged you back here. The Tree-" he continues, pointing with his thumb at the Great Deku Tree, "-told you that some hero or someone is in trouble. You fell back asleep."  
  
"Oh," I mutter, is that all? I give my head another shake, the last of the hazy mist fading away into the back of my mind, "What. . .What are you doing?"  
  
"Me?" Sheik rolls his eyes almost imperceptibly, shrugging, "Oh, not much. . .Just building the damn boat!" He turns back around, grabbing the wooden frame with both his hands and pulling it up on to the lily pad. However, as the bow of it comes up, it lowers quickly, right on to his foot, "GODDESSES DAMN IT!!!"  
  
I laugh lightly, the image rather amusing. An angry Sheik. . .Man, I am not forgetting this one. . .  
  
Sheik sighs, grabbing the frame once more. His anger seems gone, and this Time he pulls it up flawlessly, stopping it a few feet to my right. I notice almost immediately the small hammer that is strapped around his waist, and he pulls it out, and begins hitting the frame.  
  
"Uh, Sheik?" I ask, and he doesn't stop, just look at me through the corner of his eyes, "You. . .uh, know what your doing?"  
  
"Not a clue," he says, standing back up, "But I don't think I've done to bad so far. The frame is just about done, and then all I have to worry about is the paneling." He begins hammering at one of the joints again, which I notice is jointed together strangely. . .  
  
"What are you doing?" I ask, pointing to the bizarre joint, "I've never seen anyone do that before."  
  
"Well, I don't have nails or anything, and since I've never made a boat before, I'm improvising. I know just a little bit about carpentry though, and so through some reasoning, I decided that dovetail joints are about the only thing I can do to hold the wood together," he wipes his bangs out of his face, and moments later they fall back into place, "All I can do is hope this thing floats."  
  
"I. . .I think it will," I say, "But. . .how much longer do you think it will take?"  
  
"In a rush?"  
  
"No. Yes. . .Maybe." A faint smile lights up my mouth as I watch him busy himself with his building.  
  
"I. . .I have no clue," he continues hammering, leaning over his work, "Like I said, I've never done this before. . .But the frame. Is. Done!" He says, his words punctuated with his strong hammer blows. A gleam of pride lights up his eyes and I'm sure that behind his guise he is smiling. . .How long did this take him?  
  
"Sheik, how long have you-"  
  
{Well done, Sheikah!} The booming voice of the Great Deku Tree interrupts me, and we both turn to face my former guardian, {You have done well! Step back, if you will.}  
  
"What are you-" Sheik begins but is quickly cut off by the sight before us.  
  
Up from the water rise many little green sprouts. . .Vines, they seem to be. Thin, a vibrant green, spotted by the small leaves growing from their sides, they move towards the frame of the boat. Sheik takes a step back, his eyes wide, as the little tendrils wrap around the frame, securing themselves tightly. . .forming the siding?  
  
I turn about to look at the Great Deku Tree, who is looking down on the whole scene with a smile on his face.  
  
The vines wrap themselves completely around the frame, forming a canoe made completely of small writhing green masses. . .Eventually, they still completely, and the boat is fully formed. . .Out of living materials. I look back up at the Great Deku Tree.  
  
{There you go, Hero. . .Head to the north, to the Tower of the Gods. . .You cannot miss it.}  
  
"Thank you," I mutter, blinking slowly, taking one last deep breath of the air in this place, "I guess. . .We'll be off, then. Thank you very much."  
  
{No, Hero, do not thank me. . .I must instead thank you on the behalf of all of Hyrule, and the Great Sea. . .Good luck.}  
  
~*~  
  
"Goddesses, can we be any MORE conspicuous?" I mutter to the air, watching Link doze lightly, his back resting against the edge of our living boat. . .It is slightly unnerving, riding in a boat that actually shifts under you as you just sit there. Occasionally, some vine under my rear will suddenly slither away, making me very self conscious about parts private, "I mean, here we are, in the middle of the ocean, in a vine boat with a blanket flag."  
  
A frown appears on my brow when Link doesn't reply. . .He hasn't been very conscious all day. . .Spending as much time asleep as he is awake. . .It is not reassuring. . .As much as I don't want to admit it, I am worried. When he first collapsed, I was almost hysterical with worry. . .And that is very strange. I am a Sheikah, after all. . .I am supposed to be emotionless. . .  
  
Finally, I give in to my worries, and allow myself to actually ask him. . .  
  
"Link, are you alright?"  
  
"Fine, Sheik. . .Jus fine," he slurs, shifting slightly. My frown deepens.  
  
I don't like this. . .Not at all. . .  
  
I shift slightly where I sit as another vine wriggles underneath my knee awkwardly, and sigh. I've been thinking over everything that Link has said for quite some time now, mulling it over with a fine comb in my mind. Everything he's said has made sense so far, much more so than the shorter, half truths he told me before. . .  
  
A Menace upon the world? I steal another glance at the dozing Link, who is leaning back against the bow of the boat, his hands clasped upon his chest.  
  
I doubt he could be a real menace to anything.  
  
[Then what about those Demons he's slain? That Ganondorf guy? The empty look in his eyes when he fought you? He would have killed you, you know, had he not mistaken you for that girl he spoke about.]  
  
Unwittingly, I notice my gaze lingering on my 'friend's' arms, noticing the lean muscle that resides under his flesh. . .From a casual view, he seems small, almost weak, but I can see otherwise. I've seen fighters thin and lean hold off big berserkers and win, but most of them use light weapons. . .  
  
Link, however, puzzles me. . .I can see the strength running through his limbs even as he now sleeps, but he uses a fairly large weapon for someone his size. He's shorter than I am, and yet I find myself only well off if I have daggers in my hands. . .The sword he uses would be far to cumbersome for me to win with.  
  
I stare at the blade, which rests beside Link, its tip in the vines, the hilt and blade resting against his shoulder. Where the sword touches the deep green of the vines, the color actually changes, from that of the forest, to a darker, almost black color. . .  
  
I frown at the thing, despite the obvious knowledge that it won't make any difference. . .  
  
[Toss it over the side.]  
  
My frown changes to a glare.  
  
[He'll never notice. . .He's sleeping. . .It would be easy to come up with an excuse.]  
  
My glare intensifies.  
  
Almost as if it understands the sudden scrutiny its under, the blade gleams in the sunlight, the glare lasting almost too long before it suddenly fades. As if in response, Link arches slightly against his resting spot, eyelids twitching for a moment. . .And then he relaxes, sighing lightly.  
  
I settle back against my own side of the boat, shuffling around cautiously as some more vines move behind my back. The movement makes my skin crawl, but only for a brief moment.  
  
[Menace. . .Menace. . .]  
  
Whether I'm referring to Link or the sword, I do not know. . .  
  
The dark scar on the half breed's neck stands out surprisingly well, as if new but not bleeding. I stare at it, studying it and Tyrael's handiwork. The Arch Angel must have reached him just in time, and have used some divine methods of healing, as a wound that deep in such a location should be fatal. . .  
  
[Why would Tyrael heal him, just to imprison him?] I wonder, finding my line of sight broken as Link shifts in his sleep, and I now instead gaze up at the horizon, my thoughts wandering, [Why waste so much energy to save him, if you're just going to toss him aside in the end, anyway?]  
  
Off in the distance, I can see the steadily rising form of the Tower of the Gods. . .  
  
~*~  
  
"Link, look!"  
  
Sheik's startled gasp shakes me free from my dozing, and I snap open my eyes. There, Sheik is looking behind me, a surprised expression on is face. I blink slowly, and rub at my eyes, but when I look again, nothing has changed. I spin about, the support I was leaning on now the thing I am hunched over. There, I see again the Tower of the Gods. . .But this Time, much, much closer than before. . .  
  
It rises high out of the waves - impossibly tall, high into the clouds - large and circular, engraved with so many lovely details. . .Angels and demons with their arms extended, leaning over the frothing waters below, their arms open in invitation. . .Coming from it's base is a circle of large archways, towering at least a hundred feet above the waves. . .Instilled with that same detail as the tower itself. Most of the stone that makes up the structure is a light grey, but there is also sections of dark grey, white and black, and even a vibrant blue.  
  
We glide so gently under one of those massive entranceways, the waves surprisingly calm and serene, and out towards the middle. . .At last, the wind seems to slow, and we drift lazily into the middle. . .I can't help but stare up at the beautiful carvings. . .  
  
"What now?" Sheik asks. I shrug.  
  
"We go inside?"  
  
"And where do we leave the boat? We need to tie it up somewhere. . ."  
  
Sheik makes a noise of agreement, and thus we drift, slowly. . .The wind's certainly died down. . .  
  
"Maybe there's somewhere inside to tie it up? This place obviously can only be reached by boats. . ." I nod my agreement, looking possibly for some little dock or something, but no. It seems like we'll have to just drift inside of the actual tower itself. There doesn't appear to be anyone staying here, but still a structure of this size would have once had someone living in it. It may be abandoned now, but there must be a port of some sort around here.  
  
Bright sunlight, open sea. . .Everything is. . .quiet. Too quiet, really. Almost like the world died and this is all that is left, the wind and the sun and the water. . .Maybe I'm expecting a little too much, as we're out in the middle of the ocean, but still-  
  
When the pain suddenly hits, I have no chance to do anything besides double over. The fire lights up my hand in sheer agony, running through my veins and scalding my skin. I clutch my aching fist, clenching and unclenching as the waves of pain burn their way into my flesh. It feels like thousands of knives have descended and are marking my skin with some unseen design, and though some part of me is vaguely curious to see what is actually happening, I can not work up the force of will needed to open my eyes. Sudden, writhing, searing. . .I groan heavily, biting my lip while trying to bite back a cry.  
  
[Oh, Goddesses, Goddesses Goddesses GoddessesGoddesses. . .It hurts, it HURTS!!]  
  
A hand on my back. A voice. I taste blood. . .  
  
"Link? What's wrong?"  
  
[Make it stop makeitstop!!!]  
  
Scrambling. . .Goddess it BURNS. . .I lunge forward, moving my hand towards the blue water. . .It burns it burns!!  
  
For one moment, the world freezes, and the pain in my hand dulls to a heavy throb. . .I notice that my hand - my left hand - is not actually on fire, as my pain had me believing. No, it is rather normal, but. . .The Triforce mark. . .It's glowing, so bright. . .Courage. . .So damn fucking bright. . .A thin stream of blood begins to leak from the edges, dripping down ever so slowly, highlighting the sacred triangle of Courage in crimson. . .  
  
Argh. . .It hurts. . .  
  
Time catches up to us again, and I continue to move forward, desperate for that water. . .Its cool embrace to soothe my burning hand. . .Feels like my skin's on fire. . .  
  
A noise. . .A noise that I have heard once before. . .Somewhere a long, long time ago. . .A powerful, but brilliant chime, like the tinkle of some exotic bell. . .And the world flares into a brilliant shade of golden yellow. . .  
  
The light flares up around us, its appearance causing my Triforce mark to burn brighter, stronger into my hand. . .I pull my fist back to my chest, cradling it there as if it were mortally wounded. The world is for a brief moment golden. . .Pristine, pure. . .Beautiful. . .The color of the sun, and suddenly everything fades. . .Almost instantly. . .The world fades to black. . .The feeling of vertigo that slithers through me is like nothing I have ever felt before, twisting my stomach upon itself, tying it into knots. . .  
  
Nothing. . .Suddenly, nothing at all. . .  
  
Silence. . .  
  
Darkness. . .  
  
Are my eyes open?  
  
I blink - or, at least try to - but nothing changes. . .Have I gone blind? What is wrong with me-  
  
Light slowly begins to filter back into my vision. . .The black turns to gray, the gray to color. . .  
  
"Ugh," a voice moans, and it takes me a moment to realize that it is my own, small and tired. . .I blink, trying to make sense of what happened. . .What did happen? It hurt. . .didn't it. . .? My hand. . .  
  
I lift it up to my face, mind racing as I try dizzily to focus on it, feeling like my head is swimming in an ocean of thought. . .There. . .There's my hand, right there. . .Yeah, that's it. . .  
  
A frown appears on my face, feeling strangely awkward.  
  
I think. . .  
  
I force myself to look at the back of my hand, at the tattoo, and after several moments, I finally gain enough comprehension to realize that it is glowing far brighter than I have ever seen before. . .And it is fading, ever so slowly. . .Still, only the outer rim of Courage is glowing. . .Like a sun, but fading. . .  
  
I force myself to sit up, groaning again, rubbing one temple while my other arm supports me. When I open my eyes again, I see that Sheik is in a similar condition, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, his eyes clenched tight. We. . .We are sitting waist deep in a pool of slightly cold water. . .  
  
What happened?  
  
Pain, pain in my hand-  
  
[Make it stop makeitstop!!!]  
  
-. . .Golden light. . .And then this. . .  
  
Where are we? It all happened so fast. . .In the space of a heartbeat. At least, that's what it felt like. . .  
  
I raise my head, glad that it doesn't cause me pain. . .In a pool of water, so pure. . .Sheik's off to my right, and behind him is. . .Oh, I think I know what happened to our boat. . .Seems to be in ruins, a pile of wood and still green vines-  
  
[Of course still green, how long do you think you have been sitting here?]  
  
I don't know. . .  
  
I look away from the wreckage, and just about gasp at the sight before me. . .On each side of this shallow pool - obviously man-made, seeing as it is perfect, with straight edges and a precision that only a master craftsman could achieve and lined on every side by a shore of steps up to a slightly higher level - stand buildings, only about one story tall, with brilliant blue tiling on their roofs. They both run, parallel to each other, connecting to a much larger structure, one I recognize only too well. . .  
  
[Hyrule Castle. . .But. . .it CAN'T be. . .]  
  
Tall, towering. . .Near the top, the roof slopes upwards in a stair-like shape, leveling out and then rising one final time, the bell chamber just visible. . .Beside the small buildings (small compared to the actual castle itself) and down the stairs, there are stepping stones out into the water. . .In the middle of the pool the builders have formed a peninsula of well crafted stone, rising up out of the water, massive pillars surrounding the narrow path. . .  
  
Into the castle. . .  
  
Above the doorway is a symbol I remember well, the Royal Emblem of the Monarchy of Hyrule. . .A Triforce, in pale gold, surrounded by a pair of wings, the feathers rather square. . .Well. . .Lacking detail. . .But still so beautiful. . .  
  
[Home. . .I really AM home. . .]  
  
I had never been in the castle before, besides my brief rendezvous with the Princess, so long ago. . .But this sight was just breath taking. . .Magnificent. . .  
  
Standing out so violently against the cool grays and blues of the castle is a red boat, starkly contrasting. . .It is facing away from us, in good condition, swaying slightly with the tiny waves that are running through this pool, most likely caused by our sudden appearance. . .The boat shows no sign of rot or rust, so it must have been used recently. . .Well, whatever. . .It doesn',t look to well made, but if we need it to escape from this strange place and back up to the surface, than so be it.  
  
I stand up stiffly, the water around my feet soothing and cool, and I notice Sheik do the same beside me. I give him a quick glance, and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he is alright. I give him a brief nod, one which he returns, and thus we both step forward, moving towards the castle before us. I can see confusion in my companions eyes, but I-  
  
"Hmph? Who are you?"  
  
The voice causes me to spin to my left, coming face to face with that boat, which surprisingly enough, HAS a face. I let go a yelp of surprise, jumping backwards, slipping, and falling on my ass.  
  
"Me? Who the Hell are you?" The boat frowns at my words, and I continue in my shocked tone, "It's not often I see a goddamn boat with a face!"  
  
"How did you get down here?" It gazes down at me, its wooden brows forming a frown, which surprisingly accents its gold yellow horns that twist up slightly from the top of its head. It's face is framed by white wood that has been crafted to appear as a beard. The general shape of it's head is a combination between a dragon and a lion, the nose more human-ish though, than the rest of it. It is for the most part red, with the exception of white edging and yellow spines on the back of it's neck. The thing that catches my attention the most about it, though, is its heavy, large jaw and its scrawny neck, "No one can get down here."  
  
"Well," Sheik interrupts, speaking almost absentmindedly with a frown on his face as he studies the boat, "Obviously you're wrong. . . We did manage to get down here. . .Somehow. . ." His gaze wanders over to me, for a moment, filled with concern.  
  
The boat leans forward, actually approaching me slightly, and takes a close look at my face. Once his surprisingly human like nose starts getting a little too close to my own, I finally take a step back, feeling strangely frozen in place.  
  
"You. . .Can it be?"  
  
"Can, uh, what be?" I ask, listening to the boat and feeling like an idiot. I shoot a quick glance at Sheik just to make sure that I'm not seeing things here.  
  
"Link?" The name draws my attention away from Sheik and back to the boat. My eyes widen and my face goes slack.  
  
It knows my name?  
  
"Do you guys, uh, know each other, or something?" Sheik asks from beside me. I frown lightly, and then arch an eyebrow, not once removing my gaze from the talking boat.  
  
"A lot of strange things have happened in my life, Sheik, but I have never once met a talking boat," I reply, giving my head a light shake. Of all the things that could have happened-  
  
"You do not know me, Hero-  
  
[Why must everyone call me that?!]  
  
-but I do know you," the boat replies, "I am the King of the Red Lions. I am. . .Well, that does not matter now! There are far more important things at hand, though I must say that it is a blessing that you have so suddenly returned! How did you manage to find your way here?"  
  
I frown at the 'Red King' [I am not calling him by his full name! That is just TOO long!], silently questioning his trustworthiness, "The Great Deku Tree told us of this place. . .There's some boy we have to help, or something?"  
  
"Yes, he is - I am not sure exactly were he is, to say the truth," I swear that if it could, the boat would shrug, "I have been waiting here for him for quite some time. . .I fear for his safety. . ."  
  
"You want me to go find him?" I frown, "How do I know I can trust you?"  
  
"I. . .You can't, not really. . .But you will have to, I'm afraid. If the Great Deku Tree has told you about this place, he probably also mentioned the boy," the boat looks at me, the gaze in his fake eyes somehow serious, "And then he too fears for the boy. . .I don't think one so young, even when trusted with the Master Sword, can defeat Ganondorf."  
  
"So what? We just wander down there willingly, into dangers unknown? Do you have something a little more specific? Something that might actually help a little?" My frown changes to an intense glare as I stare at the boat. It seems nonplussed.  
  
"No, I'm afraid there is not much I can help you with. . .I have not been able to further my own journey into here, as you can so plainly see that boats cannot move out of water. However, I can tell you this - Ganon has the Princess."  
  
"The Princess is still alive?!" I ask, disbelief (and a strange feeling of elation) runs through my system. . .  
  
[I'm not alone I'm not-]  
  
"No, not the Princess that you knew. . .This is her descendant, however. . ."  
  
[. . .oh.]  
  
I force away the thoughts of disappointment - [You thought you wouldn't be alone anymore? Hah! You will ALWAYS be alone, FOREVER!!] - and look towards Sheik.  
  
"Shall we, then?"  
  
He nods and together we start moving away from the boat, despite the not really finished conversation. Sheik seems to understand (at least partially) my feelings on that last bit of information, and he doesn't say a word. Just as we begin to move, our feet splashing slightly through the water, the boat suddenly speaks again:  
  
"If you are off then, I am sorry to bother you with this last question," I turn to face it, and it stretches its neck slightly, gesturing with its strange nose to my left hand, "The only way down here is to be a holder of a piece of the Triforce, or-" it glances at Sheik briefly, who says nothing, "or accompanied by own who does. Do you. . .?"  
  
I lift my left hand, palm inwards, showing the boat all that remains of my Triforce piece, "Sort of. . ." I smile, bittersweet. The thing that started this whole ordeal for me, those beautiful golden triangles and Ganondorf's desire for them is now the one thing that is letting me continue on. . .  
  
Why do I continue to struggle on, when there is nothing left for me?  
  
[You want answers. . .And an ending. . .]  
  
The boat nods, only bordering the edges of surprise, "I see. . .Good luck, Hero." I force back a wince at that name, before turning around and rejoining Sheik.  
  
We don't bother to use the small navy colored stepping stones, instead we just travel through the water (and why the Hell not? My pant legs are we already, as is some of my sweater) to the edge of the steps. It is only a few feet and then we are at the top of the little stone peninsula, surrounded by the high pillars that flank the walkway to the door of the castle.  
  
Without a word, we step through into the blackness of the entrance. Though it is but a few feet before we step into the light, so many things change so quickly. The air goes from crisp and clean to somewhat stale and stuffy. The quiet sounds of the outside (water lapping gently against the shore) fade out and are immediately replaced my a haunting melody. . .  
  
. . .Someone's singing?  
  
At first, I consider going to look for the owner of such a beautiful voice, but that thought soon fades away. We're not here to look for some girl, but instead that kid everyone is saying will need help.  
  
Immediately, I find myself in a large room, gigantic, really. The entranceway that we stand on immediately splits into three different directions, one leading forward and down into the main body of the room, the other two to my left and right, heading upwards to the balconies. The whole room (or at least what I can see of it) is lit with a hazy orange glow.  
  
A few steps forward, and the stone beneath our feet becomes a beautiful red carpet, fit for only the highest nobility and royalty. . .It leads down some stairs, which I realize have some rubble strewn across them, probably from the broken statue down at the next landing. . .  
  
On each side of us are small little plateaus on the tops of the pillars by the stairway, and resting on them is a total of four statues. The one on my left is broken, crumbling down onto the stairs beneath, though the other three are whole. They are all the same; lions with spears that slope up over the stairway. I pay them no heed as Sheik and I head down to the next landing.  
  
I step over a bit of the rubble, noticing vaguely that it looks like an arm and holy shit. . .  
  
Statue. . .The statue that broke. . .  
  
It was a statue of ME. . .  
  
In my old tunic, of course. . .  
  
The stone at my feet is of me, one arm raised, broken off about halfway up, the second arm completely missing. . .It lies at the base of an extremely large pedestal that contains the other - the bottom - half of the statue. . .I take a quick glance around the base (which is a darker grey than the rest of the stone, almost black) to see part of the sword and the shield lying there. Farther down on another stairway, I can see the hand and the hilt of the sword. . .  
  
They remembered me?  
  
. . .  
  
. . .They remembered?  
  
[Why else would they put a statue of you up?]  
  
But - but how. . .? How could they. . .?  
  
[Zelda probably told them. . .She seemed to be getting her memory back, before you left, remember?]  
  
To tell the truth, no, not really. . .That was a long Time ago. . .   
  
"Link? Is that-?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess it is. . ."  
  
"But I thought no one remembered you. . ." He narrows his eyes, and a heaviness that could only be guilt overcomes me, "You are not-"  
  
"No, Sheik, I am not lying. I swear. . ." I lift my gaze up, my mind absently attracted to the impressive sights higher above us. Farther down, there is a section where the balconies meet, a bridge running between them, wood beams coming from the middle in a design that almost looks like a mimicry of the sun's rays rising up to meet the sky. . . Higher above that is another design, seeming to be etched with deep holes into the actual wall itself. . .An ordinate circle. . .  
  
"I. . .I believe you," Sheik's voice brings me back down to the present, and I look over at him. . .He seems to be ashamed, of all things, "Listen, I'm sorry-"  
  
"You, sorry?" I ask, and at first he looks up with a bit of anger. Okay, maybe that first bit didn't come out exactly the way I wanted it too, it sounded almost like I was mocking him, "Don't be sorry, Sheik. . .It was my fault, I shouldn't have kept all those things from you. . ."  
  
When silence is the only thing that meets my words, I give a quiet, shaky sigh, and look back forward, continuing down. . .Ah, yes, the statue. . .Back to examining it. . .The damage that's been done to it seems very recent, and I can't help but wonder if it was maybe Ganondorf who did this. . .  
  
[Of course it was him! This was obviously done on purpose, and who else - in this world, anyway - hates you enough to destroy the one remaining bit of evidence that you ever existed? He thinks your dead, and the destruction of your statue would be just the final move for him. To Ganondorf, you are dead, gone. . .No one remembers you.]  
  
[Except. . .the boat. . .I guess.]  
  
I shake the bizarre thought out of my head, and instead head out to the small area in front of the large statue. . .There is an passage there, down some more stairs (what is with this place and stairs?) leading into a small black hole. I temporarily ignore it, finishing my look around this larger room first.  
  
On either side of this landing are stairs, leading down to the lower area, the main part of this room. In the middle of the stone floor is a large hexagon with the symbol of the Triforce in the middle. Interestingly enough, off of the outward tip of each piece of the Triforce is another triangle, though they are blue like the stone around them, not gold like the actual symbol. It reminds me briefly of what I learned about Hyne, and the diagram that was there in the Sorceress ruins. . .  
  
[The area. . .It was called Tears Point, wasn't it?]  
  
Does Hyne have something to do with Hyrule? Or is this all a strange coincidence?  
  
[There is no such thing as a coincidence. . .]  
  
My eyes travel from the design on the floor up to the rest of the room. It is empty, except for some broken pillars at the back of the far wall. . .The wall near the very bottom of the floor is a homely orange, but about six feet up it changes to the regular stone white of this place. . .I turn around to face Sheik, who is standing right by the stairways leading down into the black. He is kneeling next to the hole, examining the floor.  
  
"Find anything?" I ask, unsure whether I should have spoken or not. He doesn't look up at me, instead pulling his finger along some markings in the stone.  
  
"There was something here. . ." He looks up at the giant deis that the statue stands on. I follow his gaze, noticing briefly the emblem on the the statue, the standard one with the triforce again in a bright gold, but the rest of it a normal white stone color, "This. . .This was covering the hole before. . ." His gaze turns to a frown tinted with the beginnings of worry, ". . .What could be strong enough to move-"  
  
"Sheik," I say, a slight smile on my face as I step forward. He turns his attention towards me, a slight curiosity in his eyes. . .Damn, if I wasn't used to dealing with the previous Sheik (a.k.a Zelda in disguise!) I wouldn't be able to read him at all. . .Now, I'm not even sure if I'm getting half of what he's thinking right, "There is more than one way to move something. . .There was probably some kind of switch in this room, which means our little 'hero' must have been here already, but. . ." I look down at the hole, trying to make out something through the darkness. . .More stairs? I think so. . .and some kind of light, way down there, "But let's go down there anyway! Maybe we'll find some clue or something. . ."  
  
What would be important enough to hid underneath such a large statue?  
  
Sheik sighs, "And if it closes up behind us?"  
  
"Relax," I shrug, that smile gaining a bit more confidence, "Timed switches don't last this long," I say, heading down the steps slowly. They go down about seven steps, hit a landing, and then back down another seven steps the next way, into the blackness. Before I can disappear out of sight, Sheik stops me with another bit of conversation.  
  
"Timed switches? But what if-?"  
  
"Sheik, if you want, you can wait for me up there, or. . .well, whatever you want. You don't have to come down. . .If you're scared," I quickly bound into the shadows below before he can make some angry retort, and I snicker to myself when minutes later I hear him descend the stone steps behind me.  
  
~*~  
  
I sigh as I follow Link into the depths, realizing that what he was doing was rather smart. Yes, there would probably be some clue down there, in the black, and even if I remained up above it wouldn't make much of a difference. If the deis closed up behind Link and left him trapped down there, I might not be able to open it, and if I couldn't do that, I'd be as good as dead. Something tells me that I am going to need Link's help to get through here and back to where I belong. . .And to get back I'll probably have to go through this place, and I'll get killed by some group of ravenous monsters. . .And even if I stay here that Ganondorf guy will find some way to destroy everything, so. . .Might as well get trapped underground with Link and die of suffocation. . .  
  
[Oh, come on, your being far to pessimistic. . .No one is saying that the altar will close up behind you anyway, just relax. . .]  
  
I let the thought go and enter the dark, seeing the light beyond it soon enough. . .The room I enter is lit with torches on the far walls, adding an orange yellow quality to the light. The landing on which we stand is flanked by two sets of stairs, which run straight to the walls, hit another landing, turn, and more stairs down to the lower level.  
  
Farther out into the room, the bottom landing stretches out into a pathway, surrounded by water as it eventually forms a large circular area. Four pillars, two on each side, follow this path, but around the circle they change from supports into giant metal statues of knights, fully dressed in their armor. They stand at attention, though with a heavy respect in their stance as their swords meet above some small altar like area, their bodies slightly bowed.  
  
Link is framed by all of this, the oranges in the light playing against his white sweater, giving his clothing almost a glowing golden look. He seems to be staring at the opposite wall, over by the knight statues, which I now notice has large stain glass windows, but I cannot make them out properly from here. . .The statues are in the way. . .  
  
"Coming?" Link asks, the tone of playful mischief in his voice so totally unlike him. . .It sounds more like. . .The tone of a kid. . .And without turning around he simply leaps off our high up ledge, landing gracefully on the stone floor below. I frown slightly before following him, my own movements only more elegant due to my years of training.  
  
As I land behind him, he starts walking forward, up the short set of stairs into the circular area, which I now can see is surrounded by a small railing. He's staring down at the ground beneath his feet with wonder, and I can't help but glance, myself.  
  
In the center is yet again another symbol of the Triforce, surrounded by a circular bordering, designed in the style of small brick-like shapes, and inside this is a depiction of wind blowing. The Triforce, as always, is a bright gold in the white stone.  
  
On the outer rim of this area is bowing peoples, showing their reverence for the mythical object. . .  
  
////  
  
{The people, dismayed, turned to the Goddesses for their salvation. . .} The Tree's voice rings out, his booming echo betraying a slight hint of sorrow, something so deep that not even one as old and as experienced as he can hide. . .  
  
\\\\  
  
A depiction of what happened, then? It could very well be. . .Wait, there's something on the Triforce symbol. . .  
  
I step closer, following Link, who bends down close to the ground, studying the small structure that rises up from the brightly glowing symbol. After a moment, he stands up, and looks at me, all of the mischief from earlier gone.  
  
"It's an indent. For a weapon. . .I guess they were keeping the Master Sword here. . ." He glances away from me, gazing all round this altar space, "It also seems like there was a fight here. . .there's scorch lines around the sidelines. . .A favorite trick of Ganon's to prevent escape. . ."  
  
"So. . .Is the kid dead, then?" I ask, not really sure if I care at all. Link shakes his head.  
  
"No," a pause, "At least, I don't think so. . .Look, over there," Link points to one of the far edges of the arena, as that is now what I guess its most recent purpose was, "I don't think any kid can use weapons that big," and I agree once my eyes catch sight of the huge swords, at least five feet long with both sides serrated edges, "At least, I can't." He scratches the back of his head, "And besides, if our little hero died here, I doubt Ganondorf would have the nobility to move his corpse. . ."  
  
I nod my agreement, watching as Link sighs, running a hand absentmindedly through his hair. He slowly shifts his gaze to the great stain glass windows beyond the protective ring of knights and his eyes go wide, and I watch with mild curiosity as he leaps down into the shallow water that circles this part of the room.  
  
Starting at the far left one, he examines every picture, that classic look of shock not leaving his face. . .Hmm. . .I wonder. . .What is he so damn surprised about?  
  
~*~  
  
. . .And this one. . .This one is of Ruto, her red earrings shining out brightly against her blue body and the similarly colored waves behind her. . .And this one is of Rauru, the picture mostly red and gold, the background that of puzzle pieces. . .The next one is of Saria, in a sea of green leaves. . .Her eyes closed. . .Happy. . .  
  
The next one is strange and somewhat out of place, depicting the Triforce up high in the sky, the sunset behind it, and the earth below is shown as purple and blue waves, with exotically shaped mountain peaks off in the distance. Right below the Triforce, however, is its extended shadow, within a picture of Ganon ( Goddesses, he has NEVER looked stupider!) carrying his duel blades, though they look strangely smaller. . .Behind him is the image of fractured Triforce pieces.  
  
To the right of that is a picture of Darunia, surrounded by other Gorons. . .The picture is mostly brown, and uses the fractured look of the glass to play on their large muscles an their rock like features. . .  
  
Impa, eyes closed, arms raised. . .Her background surprisingly pink and red. . .  
  
Sly picture of Nabooru, wearing a headdress?. . .Wait, maybe she's just having a bad hair day. . .  
  
And then, at the very end, is a picture exactly the same as on the far side, just before Ruto's picture. Now that I think of it, it is simply a close up of the Triforce as in the picture with Ganon, but in this version he is excluded completely. There is only the golden triangles, and the red sun behind them. . .Jagged rays of light emerge from the sun, with puffs of wind curling up behind. . .  
  
"See anything interesting, Link?" I hear Sheik drop into the water behind me, no sign of a splash at all besides the small ripples that lap ever so gently against the back of my pant legs.  
  
"Yeah, really horrible pictures," I give a light laugh, admiring the pictures depicted. At first, I was surprised, still not used to the idea that someone - or everyone - remembers what we did. . .Of course, there's no picture of me, but hey, I have my own statue-  
  
[It's not like you deserve to be among the Sages anyway. . .What did you do? Swing a sword. . .It was their strength, their power that helped you fight those monsters, their magic that allowed you access to Ganondorf's keep, their skill that sealed him the Sacred Realm.]  
  
[You were NOTHING without them. . .]  
  
I force myself to laugh again, pushing aside my thoughts, "Actually, they're pretty well done, though some of their figures were demented by the jaggedness of the glass. . .Nabooru looks like she could stab someone with her nose," At Sheik's curious look, I point to the picture of the Spirit Sage, noticing again how well she stands out against the bright yellow of the background.  
  
[And again how she looks like she's got feathers growing out of her head. . .Geez. . .]  
  
"So. . .Did you find any clues?" Sheik questions, walking over towards me. I shake my head.  
  
"No, not really. . .At least, nothing more than what I already knew. . .Damn," I say, removing my glance from Sheik's, feeling a little ashamed - down to the watery floor, "I'm sorry to drag all of you into this. . .And. . .I don't know what to do now. . ."  
  
"Why don't we just go back upstairs, and continue on? I'm sure I saw a door on the other side of that large chamber. That may just be the way forward." He shrugs, as if his thoughts are not really important, but I nod my agreement.  
  
"Yeah, you're probably right. . .Lead the way. . ."  
  
Sheik makes a affirming noise, before turning around and walking out the way we came in. . .I take one last glance around this place, looking for anything we may have missed. . .Maybe another way out, but there is nothing. I sigh, and follow Sheik, my feet splashing ever so quietly through the water.  
  
With not much to think about (at least not things I want to think about) my mind wanders, first listening to the bittersweet tune in the echoing halls, seeming to come from everywhere at once, and then right behind me at Times. . .It is a haunting voice that sings the song, filled with sorrow and yet flooded with hope. . .A voice that knows the meaning of the word, 'tragedy'. . .  
  
I shake my head, changing my focus. . .It wanders vaguely about the room, but no matter how hard I try, it keeps coming back to one thing : the obvious memorials of Ganondorf's defeat. Did the memory come back in Time? Or was it the Princess who told them about the entire ordeal? Or, in the end, did the past end up repeating itself somehow?. . .No, if it had just replayed, then why do they have that statue of me? Unless, of course, another hero just popped up and happened to look exactly like me and-  
  
The sound of water disturbed suddenly attracts my attention. . .I turn about, knowing that it couldn't have been either Sheik or I that made the noise. . .We're back on to the stone steps, and whatever made the sound came from behind me. . .  
  
I notice absently that Sheik has also faced in my direction, looking for our unseen 'guest', but he turns around once more as the familiar sound of flames roar to life. I don't bother to look, knowing well enough that someone has blocked our escape with fire. . .Ganondorf, most likely, or if he's still in his pig form, Ganon.  
  
I reach up, my hand grabbing the hilt of my sword, and with a smooth jerk I pull it free. . .It slides out easily, white blade misting over with a fiery red for but a moment, before fading back down. . .I don't pay it much attention, instead searching to see my enemy. . .  
  
Puffs of black smoke a short ways away, two of them, near the pillars. I ready my sword, watching as from the mists arise two large, armored knights, serrated blades in their hands. . .  
  
[Blades just like those up on the altar above. . .]  
  
My grip tightens, wondering what kind of tricks these guys can have up their sleeves. . .They don't look very bright. . .And they're moving rather slow. . .But they're so heavily armored, I'm wondering if I can even hope to pierce their steel flesh. . .  
  
They stand at a little over six feet tall, their helmets flat-topped, round with a visor on the front, closed. Their breastplates are huge and give them the image of a barrel chest, and their swords very large and obviously very heavy. . .My eyes narrow, slightly distracted by the red color of the metal used to make their defense. . .  
  
[Weaknesses. . .?]  
  
I can't seem to spot any immediately, besides the small openings in their armor. . .Far too small for my sword to fit in, though Sheik's throwing daggers might be able to make it. . .Though, whether that will actually do anything is questionable. . .  
  
The loud clunking of metal footsteps easily alerts me to the fact that they are approaching, and I let them. . .I could probably dodge them quick enough and if I needed to, I could block the blow and holy shit -  
  
One of the guards has raised his sword vertical, with one hand, obviously preparing for an attack. . .The blade begins to fall, and I leap back, my eyes wide, as the metal clashes against the floor with a loud clang. My feet threaten to slip as I land back in the water, a good eight feet behind my previous position, and I slide a little - nothing to worry about. Soon my stance is fixed and I raise my sword again, this Time keeping a better eye on my opponents. . .  
  
I give a quick glance behind myself, looking just in Time to catch a glimpse of Sheik jumping up to the higher areas, near the door. At first, a frown forms on my face, but once I see his hands reach for the daggers he hides in his belt, I feel my shoulders relax slightly with the knowledge my back is covered.  
  
And besides, it makes sense. If I'm going to have a hard Time with a large sword like mine, it's going to be nearly impossible for him and his daggers.  
  
The metal guard on my left looks first at me, and then up towards Sheik (I assume, anyway), and instantly begins a slow run in that direction. Realizing my friend's vulnerability in a melee battle, I leap to try and block off the large hulking. . .thing. . .but I have to stop in mid jump as the other's sword blocks off my exit. I frown and mumble a few choice words, before turning myself to face my opponent.  
  
Already his weapon is again ready to bear down upon me, and I quickly dodge to the side, wincing as I again hear the loud clang of metal against stone. . .Another attack, which I meet with my sword, trying to push back against it, to hold him there, but his strength is too strong. . .I quickly give up the maneuver, instead spinning out of the way and again letting the weapon fall.  
  
There is a panting noise and a sound of frustration from my attack as I manage to 'dance' my way around his blade. Ducking, twisting, turning, dodging, rolling, jumping. . .He just can't seem to hit me. . .But as amusing as I'm finding this I still can't seem to find a weak spot. . .When he attacks again - a vertical slash to my chest region I duck, using my momentum to slide towards him, and strike.  
  
My weapon only pings off his impressive armor helplessly, and with a grunt of exertion, he swings again at me. I do a flying dodge roll thing to my right, avoiding the sharp edge by scant inches. . .  
  
Damn, these guys are freaking hard!  
  
I hit the water with a roll, paying no attention to the way my hair sticks to my forehead. . .Okay, maybe a little. I quickly raise a hand and brush the offending strands away, making sure not to block my sight on my enemy.  
  
He stalks towards me, his great sword held loosely, almost casually in his one hand, the other swinging by his side. My frown deepens, and I lunge forward, striking at the part between the shoulder guard and the breastplate. My sword hits the mark, and catches for a brief second, in which I try to lever the opening wider, with no success. . .Soon, I am again leaping to the side, sword in hand, as the massive blade barely misses my head.  
  
I sigh heavily, hearing again the heavy clunking behind me. . .He is approaching. . .Damn. . .How the hell do I get through that armor?  
  
I wait till I hear the swing, the sound of metal singing through the air, before I backflip, landing slightly to the thing's right. . .It is but a brief second before he turns to face me, but one I use to my full advantage. I lash forward again, but this Time - whether it is of my own will, or not - the Hellplague lights on fire, the flaming arc smashing full force into the crook by his shoulder guard.  
  
The armor explodes into a ball of flame, disappearing with a puff of that black magic again, and the creature (as I now can see, it is no man) screeches in agony when his shoulder catches aflame. Taking a few steps back, it waves its arms about wildly, beating at the flame furiously. I watch with amusement for a moment, but the instant it turns its back to me, I lunge again.  
  
Though there are several designs painted on to the armor, all in the shape of arcane symbols, this is no paint job. This - whatever it is - sticks off its back like a completely different section of the metal completely. It is black with a faint (glowing?) red outline.  
  
I know a weak point when I see one.  
  
Ignoring the clash of metal above -  
  
[Sheik please, please be alright damnit-]  
  
-I thrust forward, the strong force of my blow somehow disintegrating the armor completely. It disappears again in that black puff, and I watch with a snicker as the monster thing with a dog like head and a red-purple-ish body jumps in surprise, glancing quickly at the ground around it to see where it dropped its equipment.  
  
Upon seeing me it turns about wickedly, apparently believing it can defeat me without. . . I smirk, the bloodlust suddenly ripping through my veins. . .  
  
It doesn't stand a chance. . .  
  
My eyes narrow, and surprisingly enough, the thing takes a step back, raising it's sword in a defensive stance. I don't care. I jump and land at it's right, slashing upwards at it from my landing position, an almost kneeling stance. It blocks, it's weapon clanging wildly with mine, but I move a little more to the right, attacking again. This Time its blow is harder, causing me to almost fall backwards, and I retreat back with a quick jump.  
  
Realizing now that without it's armor, this creature is a bit faster and therefore able to block some of my easier attacks, I have to figure out something a little more complicated. . .I flex my hand once, tightly, the smirk returning to my glaring face stronger than ever before.  
  
Again I rush forward towards my enemy, and again he counter attacks, however, this Time, things change. I sidestep his powerful slash, and throw my right hand up into his face, concentrating.  
  
It's been a while since I last attempted this spell, and thus it takes me a moment longer to force myself through the back alleys of my mind, through that near complete dark, looking for that tiny spark of light that soon flares up into the inferno of that is Din's Fire. Though my recreation of it now is only a mockery of what I could once do, it is enough, as the fire leaps from my hands and burns deep into the eyes of my opponent.  
  
It pulls back with a furious, howling wail, clawing at its eyes and dropping its sword. I give it no Time to recover, spinning for momentum and slashing it once, twice, and the third Time is instead a thrust, right into its heart. It, on the end of my sword, twitches, convulses, and then with a thick stream of blood leaking down my sword, disappears the way it came, leaving it's mess behind.  
  
Absently, I wipe clean my sword, not really caring about the blood that is drying on my gloves. Instead, I am looking up towards Sheik, who is currently using all of his amazing speed to dodge every move that the large beast thing is throwing at him. I frown slightly at the feeling of all my bloodlust energy flooding away from me suddenly, leaving me some what tired. . .and drained. . .I lower my forehead into my non-sticky hand, clutching it tightly as suddenly my head throbs, and my eyes burn. . .  
  
What the Hell is wrong with me. . .?  
  
I shake it off as again the clash of metal draws my attention up towards my Sheikah friend. I frown, wanting to dismiss completely the burn in my eyes, but with no other choice, I sprint up the stairs, a slight watering in my eyes. I rub at them as I move, hoping to clear the blur that's starting to form at the corners, but with no real hope of success.  
  
Once I reach the top, I see Sheik, his twin daggers holding back (barely) the large blade of my enemy. It releases its attack, preparing to perform another one, and seeing the most likely outcome, I suddenly leap into the fray with a loud cry.  
  
The thing's attention is drawn to me, and it's attack changes course. I look over to Sheik, who is slipping easily behind its back unnoticed.  
  
"Hit that thing on it's back!" I shout, dodging a blow and moving back, closer to the door, where the landing is a little wider. The thing stomps towards me, its sword up high and coming down fast, and I have no choice but to block it in this cramped space (don't want to fall), the force of the blow nearly knocking me to my ass, but I somehow manage to stay upright, fighting in a war of strength.  
  
There's a loud crack, and then suddenly the clang of metal, and the creature's armor disappears. It looks startled, pulling back, and then as soon as it realized what has happened, it attacks again.  
  
I'm starting to wear down, the powerful hits of these monsters tiring me out. . .I block, and then dodge, no longer having the strength to take another blow. As a third attack comes, I am glad to see Sheik ready to plunge his weapons into this thing's hide, but I have to move it or lose it. I start to spin as what should have been a vertical slash changes suddenly to horizontal, and just as I'm almost out of reach, I feel a white hot pain surge through my back.  
  
I cry out, unable to help myself, hitting the wall hard, my face scraping painfully all the way down the rough stone. . .I crumple to the ground, distantly glad to hear some sound of worry from the Sheikah, soon followed by a shriek from the monster. . .  
  
All I can feel is the fire in my back, and the warmth of blood dripping down. . .  
  
More shrieking. . .and then nothing. . .  
  
I lift my head, wincing at the line of fire that lights up in my back, and with a few careful movements I am able to roll myself on to my front with a cry. There is the sound of hurried movement, and suddenly I open my eyes to see Sheik kneeling next to me, on of his hands on my shoulder.  
  
"You alright?"  
  
I nod, "You?"  
  
"I'm fine," he replies stiffly, and I glance quickly at his left arm, which I now notice is bleeding. He follows my gaze, and makes a scoffing noise, as if shaking off my worry, "Where did he hit you?"  
  
"M-my back," I say, wincing again as I try to rise. Sheik's gaze turns to a concerned frown as he pushes me back down gently. I sigh and shake my head, "He didn't get me too bad. . .It's just a little tender. . ." Whether Sheik believes me or not, I do not know, but he slowly raises me till I am again sitting up right. The motions cause fire to shoot down my spine, but I try to relax, tightening my grip on the Hellplague. . .For once, my fingers aren't freezing cold, though still slightly chilled. . .  
  
I can feel Sheik's gaze wander across my wounded back, his fingers exploring the injury ever so gently. . .After a moment, his warm touch leaves, and returns almost instantly, leaving me to wonder what he was doing.  
  
"Let's get you bandaged up. . ."  
  
~*~  
  
A/N : Well, this site has now specified that I can not - basically - respond to reviews anymore (as apparently that causes unneeded A/N space and uses the review system as a chat) so from now on, I'll have to respond to reviews by sending you guys emails, okay? Sorry about that, but there's nothing I can do. . .I've gone back to try and clear out all of my old author's notes, and if I've messed up the chapters somehow, please tell me!  
  
Sorry for the delay, and the fact that I cut this one short. This chapter was originally supposed to go all the way to the end of Ganondorf's Tower, but it was getting a bit long. . .  
  
Inspiration for the near completion of this chapter (in one day) provided by the wonderful art provided by Rayine of Gailin. . .^^ It is so beautiful [Glomps Link and Squall]. . .Oh, and Rayine, I was wondering if I could show it to a few friends? Soda is dying to see it! XD  
  
Well, I think that's it, so good bye! (please review!)  
  
(P.S My spellcheck might have butchered this chapter. If it has, just let me know and I'll run it through again, thanks! XD ) 


	45. Chapter XLIV Ganondorf's Tower

Act I - Trial of a Man  
  
Chapter XLIV - Ganondorf's Tower  
  
----------  
  
A QUICK A/N : I'm sorry about the delay, and I also apologize for Ganon's Tower. I meant to make it exactly the way that it is in the game, but at the time that I write this, I do not have either access to the internet or my Game Cube, so I have to make it up, I'm afraid. I'll try to keep as much of it as I can remember the way it is supposed to be. Sorry.  
  
(P.S - FFnet is no longer allowing me to use my old form of section seperation, so for now on, I will use -------- to indicate that.)  
  
----------  
  
I lean against the wall, feeling Sheik's fingers skirt over my wound with a gentle touch, though most of the sensation is lost through the layer of bandage he is wrapping tightly around my chest. I grit my teeth as he tugs at the edges of the wrappings, my arms bracing me against the wall, fingertips digging painfully into the crevices of the stone.  
  
Soon enough, the small jabbing sensations of tiny needles working their way into my flesh ends, and I manage to sit upright, ignoring the pain as much as I can. Sheik gives me a bit of a helping hand, which I take with gratitude as he pulls me up - gently - into a standing position. Once completely upright, I stretch out an arm and brace myself against the wall until my balance is completely under my control again, and while Sheik gathers up the needle daggers he threw.  
  
I wait patiently for Sheik to return to my position, and as soon as he notices me standing without the help of the wall, the concern again flows throughout his face (as much of it as I can see).  
  
"You're sure you're alright?"  
  
I look at him, and nod, "Yeah, I'm fine. . .Back's a bit sore though. . ."  
  
He looks at the Hellplague in my hand, "Maybe you should refrain from fighting, then. . ."  
  
"And what?" I reply, "Listen, I know how Ganon fights. He's going to have close to a damn army guarding him, and-"  
  
"And the boy has already gone before us. The way might be clear." The Sheikah crosses his shoulders, "I suggest you put it away, Link."  
  
[No, not when I'm so cold. . .]  
  
I shiver lightly, barely noticing that Sheik's eyes narrow with the motion. Ever since the wound was bandaged and the pain lessened, the chill has been seeping back into my limbs, and now I can hardly feel my fingers.  
  
[Why does he seem so adamant on getting me to put it away. . .? It's unlike him. . .]  
  
"I think I can hold it just fine, Sheik," I say, grounding out the words slightly with my frustration, "Besides, Ganon will be too har-"  
  
"But we aren't fighting Ganon now, are we?" The tone of his voice is surprisingly bitter, and with a thought of hate towards my poor arguing skills, I put the sword back in its sheath. As soon as the red hilt leaves my hands I can feel the warmth leave with it, and my hand trembles of its own accord. I don't know if Sheik saw that or not, but he turns away from me nonetheless, reaching into a small pack that I failed to notice hanging from his shoulder.  
  
"Here," he says, pulling out a small leaf wrapped object, "Have something, before we continue on."  
  
I take it, raising an eyebrow as I gaze at his wounded arm - [it's bandaged. . .When did he do that?] - "And what about yourself?"  
  
"I'm fine," he replies, somewhat gruffly, "Go on, take it."  
  
I turn away stubbornly and cross my arms, ignoring the sharp sting of pain that ignites up my back, "I will when you do."  
  
Sheik releases an angry sigh, mumbling something briefly under his breath, "Fine! Fine, just have something for the Goddesses sake!"  
  
I turn around quickly, and snatch the small (about the size of my palm) package. I stare at it for a brief moment before I rip open the wrapping, revealing am assortment of foods I do not recognize.  
  
"Fruits and such," Sheik mutters, pulling out another for himself and a full canteen, "The Tree gave a few of those packages to me before we left."  
  
I give a brief shrug before lowering a hand towards the 'fruit and such.' It smells. . .surprisingly good. . .I pop the piece into my mouth, instantly surprised at how sweet and juicy it is. . .I quickly finish the contents of the wrapping, and take a quick swig from the canteen once Sheik is done with it.  
  
I lower the object from my face to find Sheik staring hard at me, but as soon as he notices that I'm looking again, his gaze goes cold. Distant. I screw the top on tightly, making sure that none will leak out.  
  
What's his problem. . .?  
  
I hand the flask back to him, trying not to tremble. . .Goddesses, I'm SO cold. . .My hand does shake, despite my efforts, but only once and it's not too noticeable. . .Sheik, at least, hasn't given any indication that he saw.  
  
He puts what's left back into the pouch - half of his meal, as he didn't finish and the canteen - and the leaf wrapping of my fruit is released to the ground far below us. I watch it with an absent mind as it floats down, gently touching down and landing in the water, tiny ripples spreading from it's location.  
  
Sheik gathers my attention again by clearing his throat, and I turn towards him warily, unsure of what has been causing his sudden mood swings. He leans forward slightly, staring me long and hard in the eyes. First, he is simply studying me (which causes another shiver to work its way down my spine) and as time passes his gaze fills with a hint of worry. . .A moment longer, and finally he straightens, nodding lightly to himself. I watch as he motions to the stairway without words, gesturing for me to go up first.  
  
Confused, I nod back, and move in front of him and up the stairs, my left hand running along the stones in the wall in a nervous gesture.  
  
Did I say - do - something wrong?  
  
----------  
  
I watch Link rise up the stairs, myself only one step behind him. If it weren't for the jagged tear in the back of his shirt, or the barely visible bandages, I wouldn't even know there is anything wrong with him.  
  
However, there is, and it has nothing to do with that wound.  
  
I noticed his hands trembling earlier, and how even now he seems to be constantly clenching and unclenching them, as if to generate warmth. . .  
  
As if he's cold. . .  
  
But how could he be cold here? This place is surprisingly warm and humid. . .Even in my light clothing, I am almost uncomfortable, and what Link is wearing is a lot heavier. . .My eyebrows lower into a frown as I see another shudder ripple through him, too minute for me to have seen if I was not paying so much attention. . .  
  
His shivering strengthens, and for a brief moment I can see his hand raise slightly, as if he's going for his sword. It wavers once, twice, before falling by his side again.  
  
[The sword! I knew it had something to do with that thing!]  
  
I'm sure my frown only intensifies as I move forward to stop him, but mere inches away from his shoulder I stop, my hand still reaching out.  
  
What am I going to ask him? To put away his sword completely?  
  
[Not a bad idea, but. . .When we come to Ganon. . .]  
  
Earlier, I found my pride being damaged when he insisted that I would need his help against this adversary, but. . .Memories of the bones in the Chaos Sanctuary have found their way into the forefront of my brain, and now I cannot even pretend to ignore the fact that Link would have a better chance than I. . .  
  
[He would tear Ganon apart. . .But what could push someone into such a rage? What could strengthen them so much that they could decimate legions of demons, and then kill the Devil himself?]  
  
That rage is one of the few things I cannot blame on the sword, although I wish I could. . .The very idea of someone being that. . .powerful. . .is vaguely disconcerting.  
  
[Especially when they're standing less that five feet infront of you.]  
  
I shake the thought out of my head as we emerge at the top of the stairs. Link looks around for a moment, clearly trying to decide what to do next. I am immediately struck by the light in his eyes, making him look almost completely innocent and naive. There is of course, that ever present haunted appearance in his gaze, but otherwise he looks almost like he could be a kid. His eyes turn towards mine, and a smile lights up his face and I have to resist the urge to smile back.  
  
"Shall we?" He asks, and although I know I should answer, I merely nod. Link takes this as enough, and he begins walking down the stairs to the door on the other side of this large royal chamber. This door is lower than the other one, as if the entire building was built to accommodate being on a large slant.  
  
I follow Link quickly, doing my best to keep a close eye on his behavior. His hands are still clenching tightly, and every now and again a light shiver worms it way across his shoulders. I am torn between worry and fear. . .Worry that there could be something wrong with Link, and concern of this having something to do with why Tyrael sealed him.  
  
[What? Why would Tyrael seal him? Because he's shivering? Because he's cold?]  
  
The thought is caustic and stinging, and so I do my best to ignore it. It is definitely a ridiculous idea. . .Why would Link being cold have anything to do with it? It doesn't make sense, not at all. . .  
  
[So then. . .Why is he cold here?]  
  
I don't have an answer for that, and so I just let it lie. . .But, no matter how hard I try, I can't stop thinking about it. . .   
  
----------  
  
We step outside of that large hall, through the door opposite to the one we entered earlier. The heaviness in the air is still about, and the world is completely silent. . .Too silent, not a sound except those coming from Sheik and myself. I look about taking in the sights. . .We're standing on what appears to be a large bridge, again built on a slant. . .A platform, stairs, a landing, and then more stairs. Above the last set of stairs is a giant archway whose base connects with the ground below, framing the path forward.  
  
I glance up idly, starting in shock as I stare up at the sky.  
  
The blue, rippling sky.  
  
"What is it?" Sheik asks, look at me with an amused expression on his face. I point up.  
  
"Um, the sky. . .It's, uh-"  
  
"The ocean, yeah. What about it?"  
  
I look at him, somewhat surprised by his lack of concern, "Uh. . .Okay, Sheik, I hate to be Captain Obvious-ing you, but you see, water is supposed to be close to the ground. It doesn't float." I look back up, "And that water up there is so definitely floating."  
  
"And that Tree said that your 'Hyrule' place," he seems to struggle with the word slightly, as if it has a hard Time rolling off his tongue, "was flooded."  
  
"Okay, you're right there, but that's not what concerns me. . .What does is how that water is managing to stay up there. Why isn't it coming down on our heads?"  
  
Sheik shrugs, "Search me." I glance over at him and feel a slight smile on my face.  
  
"How about we blame it on magic? A magical barrier."  
  
His eyes crinkle at the edges with humor, "Sounds good."  
  
"Yep, blame it on magic," my smile grows, "From now on, whenever something bad happens, its the magic's fault."  
  
He rolls his eyes at me, "Link, let's just keep moving."  
  
"Fine," I sigh, over dramatically, "Be that way."  
  
I swear I hear a low chuckle issue from behind his cowl as he pushes me ahead, "Well, then, lead the way! This is your home, after all."  
  
I grumble loudly, "It WAS. . .It's been a long Time since I was home, thank you very much."  
  
He sighs, his humor seeming to wear thin, "The quicker you move, the quicker we get to fight this enemy of yours."  
  
I give in and fall silent, leading the way. . .Funny, I don't quite remember any path like this, not at all. . .The path is surrounded by steep hills, preventing any travelers from straying off course. There is, surprisingly, a tree in the middle of this walkway, and I blink at it.  
  
I definitely do not remember anything like this. . .  
  
There is no sign of any enemies, which I guess is a good thing. . .Though, it's not like Ganon to leave any stretch of land unguarded.  
  
Biting my lip, I continue forward, hearing Sheik follow me closely. I don't have to worry about going the wrong way, as for the exception of a few twists and turns, the path is rather straight forward. There are no alternate choices, no areas where I could even think of turning off.  
  
I expect Sheik to say something - anything - but he remains quiet, leaving me to my thoughts. There is a large bend in the path that we follow, my boots hitting the ground dully with a thud for every step I take. Sheik, on the other hand, is far more silent. . .[Hell], I think, turning around quickly, taking a passing glance at him, [I have to make sure he's still there. . .]  
  
Before I can turn around again, my boot lands on something. . .slippery, and the sudden change forces me to correct my footing immediately lest I trip. I manage to do so, hobbling over the foreign object like some kind of idiot. I hear Sheik sigh behind me, and I turn to face him - and that object.  
  
On the ground lays a long spear complete with a tattered red strip of cloth wrapped near the blade. I hear Sheik say something about watching where I'm going, but I don't listen. . .  
  
"Well, at least the kid definitely made it this far," I say, looking up at Sheik. He shrugs.  
  
"How can we be sure? Maybe someone dropped this weapon, or perhaps there was some infighting-"   
  
"I doubt that. . .Ganondorf has this strange. . .Well, its like his minions become mindless, or something. I've never seen them fight each other, or even argue."  
  
"Well then, maybe he did come through here. Either way, it doesn't really matter. He may be dead now for all we know."  
  
"Alright, alright," I reply, glancing at Sheik's eyes quickly, "Let's get going, then." I turn away, and think about what I saw as we continue forward.  
  
Sheik. . .He seems distracted, almost. He was studying me carefully, but he was hardly paying ANY attention to the conversation. . .I did not like the look I saw in his eyes, either. Cold harsh and judging. . .  
  
I shiver involuntarily, the movement aggravated by the coldness that is running through my hands. I wish to grab my sword and stop the shudders that run through me, but I can't. . .Not without raising suspicion.  
  
[Oh, please let there be a battle soon. . .]  
  
Another turn, and suddenly the scenery changes. Now, the hills even out, and the path is instead lined with short stone walls, the depiction of wind boldly displayed on every brick. More stairs, a short landing at the bottom. There is an arch above the walkway, and immediately after that the way forward disappears. What must have once been a bridge is now separated into three pieces - the side we're on, the far side, and a small section in the middle.  
  
[He must have used a hookshot to get across,] I think, as the only sections that did survive each have an arch over them, [Probably found a way to latch on, then drop down to the ground beneath.]  
  
I take a quick glance down beneath the bridge, down into the abyss and find myself cursing our luck. Of course the bridge is out. . .Why would it be whole? That would make this just a little TOO easy, now wouldn't it?  
  
Sheik, without hesitation, leaps from our side to the section of stone in the middle, and again to the far side. He waits a moment, and turns around, looking at me in all my gawking glory.  
  
"Well, come on," he says, his voice somehow reaching my ears clearly, despite the fact he is not shouting, "Hurry up."  
  
"Uh, Sheik, must I remind you of what happened at that fortress? I can't jump like you."  
  
"You could if you tried," he replies, "Come on, its not that far."  
  
"Sheik! Its twelve feet to the middle platform! I might be able to make maybe eight feet, with luck nine. . .I'm no Sheikah!" I frown as I hear him mumble something, and he slowly raises his gaze to look up at me, his eyes strangely knowing. He shakes his head.  
  
"What do you want me to do? Carry you?" I roll my eyes as he continues, "Come on, otherwise you're going to have to stay behind." I sigh.  
  
"If I die, its your fault."  
  
"I'll blame it on the magic barrier," he says and I roll my eyes again.  
  
Taking a few steps back, I crouch slightly, hoping to get as much momentum as I can muster. Jumping has never been my thing, and now I have to jump for my freaken life unless I want to drop to the ground below and die. . .I take a deep breath, and spring out from my crouched position. My feet thud dully against the stone beneath me, and with the broken edge approaching I leap.  
  
For one moment, I am free.  
  
I am airborne. There is no weight on my shoulders, no worry in my mind.  
  
I am weightless.  
  
Then reality comes back as my feet hit the stone ground. I don't stop, not even long enough to think, leaping again when the other edge approaches. Again, for one brief moment, I am free of my troubles and my thoughts as I soar through the air, some distant part of my mind screaming out how fucking lucky I am that I haven't fallen (yet).  
  
Once more, reality smashes back into my mind, but much harder than last Time.  
  
My stomach is flat against the ledge that I hit, my hands scrabbling at the stone ledge as my feet dangle uselessly above the emptiness. My fingers grab at cracks and chips in the stone, desperately trying to find purchase. My mind is screaming at me, something about 'telling me so'. A strangled gasp escapes my lips, and I look up at Sheik for help.  
  
My grip slips, and I drop a good foot, my hands sliding across the rock. My body jerks to a stop, and opening my closed eyes (when did I shut them) I look up to see Sheik, his hands grabbing mine. His own eyes are closed in his effort, and slowly, bit by bit he drags me up, back on to the ledge.  
  
I just lay there for a moment, my mind racing as I try to understand the implications of what has just happened. My breathing is harsh and fast and my arms are cold (big surprise there) and shivering. I look up at Sheik.  
  
"T-thanks," I mumble, running a hand through my sweat soaked hair. Already, the wind is working at drying it, though that only makes me colder, "I. . .I owe you one."   
  
"One of these days, I am going to teach you how to jump," he states, standing back upright and extending a hand for me.  
  
"Ah, just face it, I can't. I'm not a Sheikah, I'm not meant to jump like you do. . .Hell, I'm surprised I made it this far. . ." I stand up with his help, and brush myself off quickly, "Well, let's get moving." He nods in agreement, and together, we walk towards the ominous gates before us.  
  
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, something tells me this isn't going to be easy. . .  
  
The gates open seemingly by their own will, and after a brief, cautious look into the darkness before us, I shrug and walk in, Sheik right behind me.  
  
The doors shut immediately, and the whole room becomes pitch black. I vainly try to look around (and have to stop, as my eyes are hurting again) but it is no use. . .I wait for my eyes to adjust, and by his silence I assume Sheik is doing the same.  
  
Slowly, I am able to make out flickering orange lights ahead - fire, it must be. . .The room becomes visible, and I am able to make out things now, such as the rocks and skulls that litter the ground of this cave. The walls are made completely out of rock, and the ground is just dirt - no signs of anything special here. It is not until Sheik and I take a few steps forward can I even begin to see how this could be Ganon's Castle.  
  
There is a short flight of stairs (only six or seven steps) and on the landing above, there are two large cylindrical structures, fire flickering from their tops like giant candles.  
  
We walk right by them, paying no real attention. Behind them is a door, decorated with a symbol of a pig face, surrounded by flame. It looks rather cheesy, as if some four year old drew it with only blue and red paint, but it is proof enough for me of who's tower this is. . .  
  
[As if I didn't already know.]  
  
I raise a hand, searching for a latch or a way to push it open, but it raises as I approach and I jump back, stifling a cry.  
  
[Goddess damned doors! I forgot they were freaken automatic!]  
  
I hear Sheik chuckle lightly to himself, bypassing me and entering the next room, which I notice is a lot brighter and a whole lot warmer. Eyes widening at this prospect, I bound in after him, ignoring his snickering.  
  
The reason for the warmth of this room is easy to see once I pass the threshold. We stand on a small rock outcropping above a large pit of lava. This room is circular, with several sections of rock ledges along the walls. There's the one we are on, one directly across from us, and another four, two on each side of this room. There is a rock pillar rising up from the middle of the lava, connecting all six other ledges with bridges.  
  
Or, at least, they USED to be connected. . .  
  
Only three bridges remain. . .One to the center from where we stand, and again across to the opposite side. The last bridge connects the middle and one of the side areas, though that one looks a bit testy. The rest lay in ruin, their cords have obviously been cut.  
  
[Oh, joy. . .]  
  
"What now?" Sheik asks, "Across? Which way do we choose?"  
  
"I. . .I'm not sure. . .Let's go to the center ledge." Sheik nods, and we start across the suspended bridge. I relish the warmth that courses through me, though I know I am not as warm as I should be. A quick glance at Sheik shows that he is sweating, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he's debating taking his cowl off. . .  
  
I should be hot right now, but I have to say that I am only bordering warm. . .I debate taking the Hellplague off my back to increase this sensation, but it would get Sheik wondering. . .And after all he heard about me, I don't want to make him suspicious.  
  
The bridge is mostly intact, and we cross into the middle easily. Once there, I hear a noise, almost like one of surprise. I turn to my right to see a strange imp creature traversing one of the bridges and coming over towards us. In its hands it holds a shoddy scimitar and a wooden shield. Without even stopping to think, I raise my hand and grasp the hilt of my sword-  
  
[Goddesses its WARM. . .]  
  
-and pull it out of its sheath. Deftly, I swing the blade in a horizontal fashion, cutting the rope that suspends the bridge above the lava. Apparently, the two are not enough, and I consider just casting Din's Fire on the bridge itself, but as the strange being waddles over to us faster, its own weight snaps another of the cords, and the already weakened bridge falls into the fire below.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Sheik asks from behind me. I don't turn around.  
  
"Well, in case you didn't notice, it was coming right for us, and also, that's not the way we had to go."  
  
"How can you be sure?" Sheik asks, "The boy didn't burn it for a reason."  
  
"Sheik," I say, forcing my tone to sound like one an exasperated parent would use with a bewildered child, "You see that door over there? The one with the big, glowing symbols?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Notice how there are four symbols?"  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"There are six doors here, that one, the one we came from, and the four on each side."  
  
"And so. . .?"  
  
"The four symbols represent the four side doors, and those symbols are lit up, which means that big ole door over there, is open."  
  
Sheik gives me a look which says he hates me, "And what if the symbols have to be darkened for the door to open?"  
  
I smile, replying easily, "Then we're already fucked. Come on, lets move." Sheik gives me another look as he follows closely behind me.  
  
"I didn't even know that doors could glow like that. . ."  
  
I don't answer him, instead letting him fall into another one of his brooding silences. I reach forward again for the door infront of us, briefly studying its symbols, two at the top and two at the bottom, separated by a detailing that is obviously supposed to be bones. It opens, sliding upwards into some hidden spot above it, allowing the two of us to pass.  
  
You know, I should have done this before. Have someone else go and solve all of the stupid puzzles for me while I follow and head straight up to the dungeon master. . .Or, Ganondorf, in this case.  
  
Beyond the door is a staircase (okay, seriously, what is with these people and stairs?) leading up a dark corridor. Now, without the heat from the lava, my body temperature has lowered again back down to a more uncomfortable cool. The sword is still providing me with plenty warmth, however, and I can only pray that Sheik will not ask me to put it away again any Time soon.  
  
"Aw, is the poor little Hylain cold?" Malon's mocking voice whispers from somewhere behind me, and immediately I can feel whatever humor was in my system drain at the sound.  
  
[Oh, is the poor little Malon upset she's dead?] I pause for a moment, letting that sink in, [Geez, I was hoping you weren't coming back. I almost forgot about you.]  
  
"Pity," she replies, "So. . .You don't care that I'm dead?"  
  
I roll my eyes, [Did I say that? No. Shut up. Just go away.]  
  
"And where to will I go?" she floats around to my side, drifting lazily in the air as I climb the stairs.  
  
[Hopefully, somewhere far, far away from here,] I reply, my frown deepening. Goddesses, she just knows how to ruin someone's day, doesn't she? [Just try to keep from distracting me while I fight with Ganon.]  
  
That peaks her interest, "You, fighting with Ganon?" She laughs, and for one second I irrationally fear that Sheik is going to hear her, "Are you so proud as to think that only you can defeat him? That kid may have already done the job. You aren't the Hero of Time anymore, Link. The Hero of Time doesn't hurt and kill people. . .and enjoy it."  
  
[What are you getting at?] I ask, looking at her through the corner of my eyes. Again, she laughs.  
  
"Oh, you know you enjoy it. . .Don't even try to deny it-"  
  
[Okay then, I won't,] I reply snidely, watching the surprise momentarily register on her face.  
  
"Jerk," she comments, "You weren't supposed to say that!"  
  
[And where do you have this scripted?]  
  
"Oh, You-!"  
  
"Link?"  
  
I blink, focusing my mind for a moment, before turning around to face the source of the voice. Sheik is staring at me, a curious expression on his face as he looks up at me.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
I blink again, forcing Malon to the back of my mind for a moment, though I have the terrible feeling that I don't have any control over her, "Um, yeah."  
  
"I asked you if you knew how you'd defeat this Ganon guy. While you were out, the Tree told me that he was some kind of black magician. . .Though, I suppose, any man is still a man, right?"  
  
Once more I blink, the memories against Ganon rushing back into my mind. The heat of the battle, my sword clashing against his all in the dark of the night, surrounded by a ring of fire. . .Then, almost automatically, my mind begins comparing that to the Times when I fought the Prime Evils. . ., "Yeah, Sheik, it shouldn't be too hard."  
  
He nods once, "Good to hear." I turn around, and we continue walking up the stairway. Not much farther now, I can see yet another door up ahead. We approach it quickly, and like all the other doors in this place, it opens automatically. However, unlike all the other doors, when it goes up, I notice a stab of pain in my left hand. I raise it to my face, despite the fact that I already know what is hurting me like this.  
  
The Triforce mark is glowing brightly again, though this Time it is not as painful as before. . .Now, it is more of a steady throb, strong enough that I can feel it but weak enough that it isn't too bothersome. . .Just a bit annoying. . .I rub it gingerly, lowering my hand (and the sword it holds) again.  
  
"Is it bothering you?" Sheik asks, and I look over my shoulder towards him as we step into blackness again, "Is it as bad as-"  
  
"As on the boat? No. . .It's just. . .Well, I can just feel it, really. . .Though, it seems to be getting stronger with every step we take." I face around again as we step into yet another new room. A large, hexagonal room, dark stone bricks forming the walls. It is dark in here, only dimly lit with torches around the room. It is with this light that I can see out of the four entrances (this one, the one across from us, and one of each side) the two side doors are blocked by tons of fallen rock.  
  
[Din damned useless crap structure. . .]  
  
Without a word or even a pause in our step, we continue forward, towards the middle of the room. There, engraved into the ground is a circular design, depicting the Triforce and flames. . .Ganondorf sure must think pretty big of himself. Either that, or he has a bad memory and has put that there to remind himself of his goal-  
  
As soon as my foot steps on the symbol, my body tenses and goes numb. For one moment, it is all I can do to breathe. . .There is the sound of billowing wind behind me, but I can't seem to turn around. . .The feeling - whatever it was - releases me, and I almost drop limp to the floor. . .  
  
"Link? Link?!" I hear Sheik call, and slowly, ever so slowly as not to hurt my already aching muscles (what the Hell happened, anyway?) I turn to face my Sheikah comrade. I notice dully that he's got his daggers drawn, and I blink in confusion, wincing as my hand gives me an unusually painful throb.  
  
"Sheik, what-?"  
  
"MOVE!" He throws himself at me and the next thing I know is that we're both moving now, rolling and tumbling along the hard stone. Distantly, I hear something explode, but right now my head is spinning and I don't have the Time to answer such questions.  
  
So, instead, as we roll to a stop, I ask Sheik.  
  
"Not now," he says, hopping quickly to his feet, "We're being attacked."  
  
"Oh," I reply, using one hand to rub some feeling back into my face, suddenly stopping my movements when what he says sinks in, "OH!" I scramble up to my feet as well, swaying slightly as I try to lock my suddenly tired knees.  
  
Around us are three strange beings, the likes of which I have never seen before. They stand, chests out in a proud display. Their entire being is made solely of darkness, swirling about them. . .In one hand, they each hold a sword of that same inky blackness and the rest of them seems to be armored in mimicry of a knight.  
  
They float several inches above the ground, surrounding us in a vague triangle shape. At first they do not move, and I'm tempted to just run at one then and there, but suddenly, in unison, they raise their swords, using the tip of the blade to point at us. I start, thinking that this is some attack of theirs, but after a moment they begin to move - circling us. I frown and raise my sword.  
  
Together, all three of them raise their weapons high into the air, and extend one hand. Their floating up real high now - around twenty feet off the ground, and I wonder how on earth I am supposed to reach them. In their outstretched hands expands balls of yellow energy - one orb to each knight. Remembering similar battles, I raise my sword warily, wondering how I am supposed to help Sheik.  
  
His little daggers will stand no chance against such an attack.  
  
Two of them wind back and release their orbs, almost in unison. Both of them waver in the air, racing towards me, and it is nothing short of a quick backflip that saves me from immense pain. I could not reflect both of them at the same Time, not when their moving that fast.  
  
[Man, I hope Ganon is in the mood for a little melee fighting. . .]  
  
As I land back on my feet, I hear, too late, the sound of another orb being fired, and suddenly there is a burning pain in my back, one that almost rivals that in my hand. The blast hits me square against my back, and I go flying forward, landing hard on my chest. I lay there for a moment, noticing the faint ash-like smell that is suddenly in the air.  
  
"Link? You alright?"  
  
"Yeah," I answer, gritting my teeth as I get up, "Just peachy."  
  
"Any idea how to defeat these things?"  
  
"Um, I used to be able to hit back their magic. . .But I don't know if that will work with this sword. . ." A faint rush of heat runs through my system, almost as if in reassurance, and I shudder with the sudden warmth, "I-I don't know about your daggers, though."  
  
Sheik shrugs casually, though I don't miss the fact that he's studying me again, briefly, before turning to face our opponents. I force myself to ignore it, for now, but plan on questioning him later. If there is a later. . .I don't know if the Hellplague can reflect magic. . .Maybe only the Master Sword can. . .  
  
More energy being gathered, and more orbs are fired. Again, all at me. . .I run away from them, making sure to follow the curve of the wall. . .If I can keep moving, then they'll have a harder Time hitting me. The first orb lands less than a foot to my right, almost immediately followed by one to my right. The third one lands right behind me, and though it doesn't hit me I can feel it push me forward. I barely manage to avoid hitting into the wall.  
  
Pulling away from the stone, I turn around. Already, they all have orbs prepared, the yellow light making their own darkness seem all that more complete. The first one throws its orb, right at me. Instead of running away, the ingenious idea strikes me, and instead I dash under it. It would have worked too, if it weren't for the second bolt fired at me. I am forced to skid to a stop, and I start backing away, running when the third bolt nearly hits me.  
  
When the smoke clears I find myself with my back to the wall, Hellplauge still in my hands. The three things have cornered me, and I see Sheik coming towards them. The one he approaches simply turns around and slashes at him, a move which he is forced to dodge, lest he be sliced in half by the massive four foot sword. My sights are soon drawn away from him, as the other two close in.   
  
The yellow energy flares, and as one they throw the orbs at me. The balls of light twist and turn in the air as they approach me, their own heat causing them to absolutely shimmer. My heart stops in my chest and panic rips throughout my system. I quickly glance for a way out of this - some direction in which to dodge, but there is nothing. . .As a last second effort, I raise my sword in a defensive position, and close my eyes.   
  
There is impact, the force slamming me harder back into the wall, but there is - strangely - no explosion, and no real pain (except for the reopening of my back wound). I crack open an eye carefully, a wince already prepared on my face. What greets me, however, isn't anything deadly.  
  
The Hellplague is glowing a bright orange, the aura slowly shifting more towards a flaming red. I cock an eyebrow at this, but the aura suddenly flares in my hands. The strange beings (except for the one Sheik is fighting with) shriek, floating backwards as they hold up their hands, in a vain attempt to put even more space between the blade and them.  
  
Realizing what is going on, I smirk.  
  
I lower the sword to my side, keeping the blade horizontal, and I walk casually toward my opponents. They continue to back away from me, and I continue to press forward. After a moment or so passes I close my eyes as I move, willing for the sword to hurt them.  
  
And, it does.  
  
They shriek and scream, and I can't help but voice the small chuckle that rises to my lips. The sword's aura flares again, and again my opponents protest my actions. Raising the sword slowly, I decide that enough is enough. They've hurt me and now I want to hurt them. . .So badly. . .  
  
I extend the tip of the blade, holding it in both hands. With my eyes closed I again call upon the power of the sword, trying to mentally aim it at one of my enemies. . .A loud scream alerts me to my success, and I look to see one of them writhing in agony, flailing about madly as fire red flames wrap and twist around its form.  
  
That same smirk on my lips, I turn towards the other. Almost as if it understands my intentions, it flees - heading over towards where its other comrade is getting its ass kicked by a fast moving Sheik. Without a second thought, I run after it, sword by my side, ready. Adrenaline pumping through me, I catch up to it quickly and thrust the Hellplague through its back. A loud screaming shriek, and it bursts into transparent flames, just like its former friend.  
  
I watch the black being wither down to nothing as the Hellplague's fires eat away at its form, my eyes gleaming in delight as it stares at me, its frightened expression begging for my help. I chuckle coldly as it disintegrates into ashes, its arm rising up one more Time to try to grab on to something, before it to falls into nothingness.  
  
A hand lands down on my shoulder, grasping it tightly. I start, a gasp emerging from my mouth as I whirl around to face Sheik, the expression on my face shocked, startled.  
  
"What's wrong?" Sheik asks, concern crossing his features. Some deep down part of my brain silently laughs, realizing just how much he's been worried about my safety recently, "What happened?"  
  
I look over his shoulder to see the monster he'd slain, it's body disintegrating into the ashes. It is only now can I hear its own screams over the frantic beating of my heart. Sheik's grip on my shoulder tightens, bringing my eyes back up to him.  
  
"N-nothing," I shake my head, realizing what I have done. . .The malicious thoughts running through my head. . .I wanted it to HURT. . .  
  
Such things are fine when I am alone, but now that I'm traveling with Sheik. . .I don't want to chase him away. . .I don't want to chase my only real friend away.  
  
[You will lose him just like you have all the others. . .]  
  
[You won't be there when he needs you-]  
  
[-You're never there.]  
  
I shudder, brought back to reality only when Sheik gives me a slight shake.  
  
"If. . .If you're alright, then do you want to continue on?" I nod slowly, watching his eyes closely for any anger, any hate, "Come on. . .That door is open now, the one that was on the far side." I nod, trying to pretend everything is normal.  
  
However, it never is. . .   
  
----------  
  
We've started towards the stairs, taking a moment as I waited for Link's panicked expression to leave his face. My first instinct on seeing his weird behavior was to be angry, or afraid. Worried that Tyrael's thoughts on Link going insane were real and possible, but. . .When he saw me looking at him, when I gripped his arm, his face of anger and hate just. . .crumbled. The fear that replaced it was disconcerting, as if he was afraid that I would hate him. . .He was close to panicking, real close.  
  
I walk beside him as we head up the stairs, making sure to pass a friendly (or at least as friendly as I can manage) glance at him occasionally, just to let him know that I'm not angry. Even now I can see him worrying, scared. . .  
  
[This is the person who took out the Prime Evils?]  
  
I discreetly shake the thought from my head. . .With Ganon so close, we can't afford for Link to be thinking or acting different. . .He needs to be ready to fight, to win-  
  
[Even if it means him being cold and malicious?]  
  
- and he can't win if he can't concentrate.  
  
I look in his direction again as a particularly large rumble echoes through the tower. There have been several in the last while, shaking this place to its foundation.   
  
I wonder if that kid has something to do with this. . .  
  
As I step I hear a light splash, and I look down by my foot to see a slight trickle of water dripping down the stairs. I look ahead, up the steep slope, and into the dark haze ahead. . .We must be near the top now. . .  
  
Link has definitely calmed down since earlier, but I can see that he is still worried about what happened. He is desperately trying to remain calm but he can't help himself-  
  
[And do you blame him? Remember the expression on his face? That cold, calculating smile?]  
  
I bite my lip, trying not to ignite that worry in me again. . .There is something wrong with Link, and whether its because of that sword or because of Diablo or both I am not sure. . .And being angry/scared of him won't help any. . .Besides, the Tree made me promise.  
  
Whatever happened is scaring him, and he's afraid to let go of that fear, as if it will weaken him, make him lose his resolve. . .And if this keeps up by nightfall he will be a wreck. . .  
  
[Oh, please say we're close to the top of this stupid tower!. . .I don't know how much longer we can last in here. . .]  
  
I don't know how much longer Link can last. . .  
  
----------  
  
A/N : Okay, sorry bout the wait. Just a quick note, when the next chapter is posted, it will start with Link and Sheik reaching the battlefield. Yeah, so they'll be done the tower by then (they're actually already close, but there was really no point typing it up). If anyone has complaints then just tell me and I'll adjust the chapter accordingly.  
  
Another quick note for anyone who cares: I will be working on my Breath of Fire story again soon, but I will be stockpiling chapters for a while. Either way, it shouldn't be much longer now.

I also will slowly be going back to fix up some things i.e - adding italics and such for thought and whatnot! Although, in some areas, I will still need to use my old brackets of various types for thoughts and speech later on. So expect a mix!  
  
That's it for now, have a nice day/night/whatever! 


	46. Chapter XLV Battle on the Top

**Act I - Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter XLV - Battle on the Top_

_----------_

_A/N : The italics in the first part (which is done in italics) are words taken from Wind Waker ( I still don't own any part of the LOZ, D2, FF8, or DrakenGard games), and are simply put there for effect. Reason they are not in "" is because Link cannot, at that time, hear Ganon yet. Thank you. Hope it isn't too confusing._

_----------_  
  
"How ridiculous. . .So many pathetic creatures, scattered across a handful of islands, drifting on this sea like fallen leaves on a forgotten pool. . .What they can possibly hope to achieve? Don't you see? All of you. . .Your gods destroyed you! I have been waiting for you, boy. For one like you. . .Yes. . .For the Hero."  
  
-Ganondorf, Wind Waker

_----------_

_My country lay within a vast desert._   
  
I rise up through the darkness, seeing the light just beyond my reach. . .The upper levels of the tower are dark, with the exception of that small opening that is so close now. . .  
  
_When the sun rose into the sky, a burning wind punished my lands, searing the world._  
  
I tighten my grip on my weapon, glad that Sheik seems to have given up on the idea of me actually relinquishing the sword back to its sheath. . .A chill runs from my wrist to the tips of my fingers, and my hands clench so hard it hurts.  
  
_And when the moon climbed into the dark of night, a frigid gale pierced our homes._   
  
My eyes screw shut for one brief moment, and I falter in step, forcing myself to relax. . .Slowly, I am able to move again, and I follow Sheik up on to the next platform. We're almost there, and with that realization comes an unwanted thought.  
  
[_I. . .I have to climb some more. . .Gotta put away the sword._]  
  
_No matter when it came, the wind carried the same thing. . .Death._  
  
I sheath my weapon, and at the loss of contact my hand feels so cold I swear that it burns. I clench it tightly on to itself, and stuff it in one of my pockets. The warmth it gains is so minimal that its like nothing has changed. . .  
  
_But the winds that blew across the green fields of Hyrule brought something other than suffering and ruin.   
_  
[_I hope Sheik doesn't see me like this. . _.]  
  
_I coveted that wind, I suppose._  
  
That very idea tightens my resolve, and with a will as hard as iron - [_I can only hope._] - I release my fist into a more relaxed position. I will not let him see me like this. . .I cannot.  
  
_It can only be called fate. . .That here, I would again gather the three with the crests. . .That I should lay my hand on that which grants the wishes of the beholder. . .  
_  
Malon has not appeared before me for some Time now, and I wonder if she has realized the importance of this battle. She would only serve to distract me, her bright red hair being a rather colorful display.  
  
Yeah. . .It is better that. . .she isn't here.  
  
_That when power, wisdom, and courage come together, the gods would have no choice but to come down. . .The power of the gods. . .The Triforce!   
_  
The Triforce on the back of my hand (or at least, what's left of it) suddenly begins to glow, and the burning throb is almost enough to chase away the chill that seems to have taken up permanent residence.  
  
_He who touches it will have whatever he desires granted! Already, the crest of wisdom is mine. . .All that remains. . .  
_  
I shut my lips tightly, hoping not to make a noise. . .I don't want to worry Sheik. . .We're almost at the top. . .I take a few more steps, out into the light. . .Not much farther. . .Just a short flight of stairs that curve around the building. . .And then we'll be there. . .  
  
_Do not fear. I will not kill you. . .I merely have need of the power that dwells within you.  
_  
I don't know what it is within me that realizes the need for concern, but suddenly my world slows down, and Time almost ceases to exist.  
  
_Now! Let us put an end to that which binds us together!  
_  
Halfway up the stairs, my world explodes into horrendous pain. I drop to my knees, barely noticing the crack they make when they hit the stone. My barely healed back (probably just stopped bleeding again) stretches painfully, and I think I hear someone screaming. . .  
  
For what feels like the longest Time, I cannot see anything but white, bright, painful white that fills my vision. . .And then, suddenly. . .Suddenly, Sheik's there, standing over me, his body darkly silhouetted by the white. . .My world slowly fades back in, and I find myself lying down, at the top of the stairs.  
  
He must have pulled me up the rest of the way. . .  
  
I sit up slowly, dimly aware of the deep voice mumbling in the distance. I notice Sheik's concern just as easily as I notice my pounding head and ears, and I am about to say something when he briefly tries to cover it up, and fails with an exasperated sigh.  
  
"Get up," he whispers, his voice surprisingly friendly, despite his words and his expression, "I think we're here." He lends me a hand and pulls me up to my feet.  
  
The area we're at is rather misty. . .hazy. Blue-green stone, so close to the bottom of that watery sky. I swear, that with a bit of help, I could jump up and touch it. . .Hell, Sheik probably could, if he wanted to.  
  
My gaze comes back down and I almost immediately notice the figures on this battlefield. How could I not notice them before? There. . .Big black form, turned away from me. Dark olive skin, flaming orange hair. . .  
  
[_GANONDORF!_]  
  
He's holding twin blades and is wearing some kind of robe. Hard to tell. . .I'm feeling a bit woozy. . .  
  
I raise a hand to my forehead, trying to ignore the sensations overcoming me. It isn't easily, but with a brief shake and a lot of concentrating, suddenly everything becomes clear to me again, at least for now.  
  
I ignore him for the Time being, and instead angle more to the right. There. . .On the ground. . .Is that. . .Zelda?  
  
No. . .No, it can't be. . .Too young, though she looks almost exactly the same-  
  
[_-Maybe a descendant?_]  
  
I wince again as another strange sensation runs through me, again making me shiver. Its not my cold hands, though, as they are still neutral from the ache of my Triforce-  
  
I glance down, panicked, at the symbol on the back of my hand with wide eyes.  
  
[_My Triforce, gone?_]  
  
There's this strange emptiness in my chest, in my mind. . .It feels almost like when one's lost a dear friend, but without the actual bawl-your-eyes-out grief. I clutch my chest with one hand as a shudder works its way through me, the presence that has been there so long that I forgot all about it suddenly gone, leaving me alone in this watery grave of a kingdom long gone. The feeling lingers, but I roughly toss it aside for the moment, as there are more important things to attend to.  
  
I can't help but notice though, that in Time with my heart is a second beat, but not one of life. . .Suddenly, I'm more alone than I've ever been. . .  
  
"Now! Let us put an end to that which binds us together!" A sinister voice cackles in a strangely fatalistic laugh, and I find my eyes instantly drawn to Ganondorf.  
  
"Gods! Hear that which I desire! Expose this land to the rays of the sun once more! Let them burn forth! Give Hyrule to me!" I see him raise something, and then there is this noise, a chiming sound. I feel the energy run through my hand, despite the lack of a Triforce piece. There is a distinct feeling of another presence, of more than one. . .  
  
Each with mixed feelings. . .  
  
Ganon drops someone - or something, as I soon notice in the form of a kid. He's got blonde hair, and the green tunic and everything. . .  
  
[_Get a closer look later. . .You go more important stuff to deal with now. . ._]  
  
-and he steps forward, arms out by his side in a gesture of divine acceptance. There is a gold light beyond him, and I already know what is there.  
  
Apparently, so does Sheik.  
  
"Link, that. . .That isn't. . ." he stares in Ganon's direction, his eyes wide. I nod.  
  
"The Triforce. . .He's got all the pieces assembled. . ."  
  
"So that's what was wrong with you. . .I didn't think it would hurt anyone _so_ much. . .The legends never mentioned such a thing."  
  
"Well," I begin, glancing at him. Soon now and I will strike and end this once and for all, "I don't know why, but it felt more like it was being torn from me. . ." Sheik stares back at me for a moment, and then faces forward again. His eyes narrow slightly in concentration.  
  
Ganondorf is almost at the Triforce. . .What better moment to make my entrance. . .  
  
Oh, he is _so_ going to be pissed. . .

_----------_

"GANONDORF!"  
  
I hear the voice (surprisingly familiar) and I turn around facing the sudden and only partially spoken challenge. There, across from me, are two Elves - one of them definitely a Sheikah. My face shows the begins of a frown.  
  
One of them is so familiar. . .  
  
The non Sheikah one seems to notice my curiously and slight confusion. He watches my movements for a moment, before throwing back his head and laughing.  
  
I don't know why. I see nothing humorous here.  
  
"Isn't it so nice," he begins, his voice slowly but steadily darkening, and it is this that truly makes me believe him to be a warrior - though his stance and sword did also give it away, "to know that I've been forgotten? I thought you would have had better manners than that, Ganon."

_The boy walks into my chamber, almost blending into the orange light with that green tunic of his. I don't bother to turn around just yet, instead continuing to play my organ, the crystal prison of the Princess floating off to my right. I know he's there, I can hear his harsh breathing, his pain, I can smell the blood on his form. . .  
  
He is in no condition to fight me. . .  
  
I rise up dramatically, with a sweep of my cape, and turn to face him, my arms crossing in a defiant manner. . .  
  
"So, at long last, the boy Hero has come to face me. . ." I grin maliciously as I can see all that delicious pain on his face, his anger, his hatred. . .So unfitting of a hero of the Light, "Had a little trouble, boy?"  
  
He says nothing, instead drawing that accursed Master Sword and falling into a battle stance. I shall never forget the determination that is carved into his face, the air of self righteousness that surrounds him in a cloud of defiance.  
  
He will die tonight. . ._

__  
  
"You. . ." My eyes widen, anger spoiling my kingly expression. This was MY moment! "_YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD_!" My fist shakes with suppressed rage, and it is only through my will, hardened by years stuck in my prison that I do not charge him now.  
  
He smirks, the action seeming strange on his form, "I _should_ be."  
  
"How did you come back here?" I ask, desperately trying to get my expression back under control. I will not let him ruin my moment!  
  
"Oh, I had my ways," he says, crossing his arms and changing his posture slightly, as if relaxing. I do not like the expression on his face, though. It is much too dark for what I remember, unless. . .  
  
"Have you switched sides, dear _Hero_?" I ask with a mocking tone in my voice. He laughs again.  
  
"You don't know how good it feels to be here, fighting you again, Ganon. It makes me almost feel young again." I quickly glance over his features, failing to see how he could be anything but young, "Come. Let us fight and finish this once and for all." I watch him pull out a long sword with a beautiful red and golden hilt. It doesn't look like the weapon of a Hero. . .  
  
I sneer back at him, "Oh, in a minute, perhaps. I have business to do, boy, and if you will be so willing to wait your turn, you may have your battle. As for actually winning and stopping me, you have no chance." I turn back to my prize, the perfect triangles, "There is nothing you can do."  
  
"Perhaps there is nothing he can do, but," I glance to just beside the Triforce to see the old man there, the King of Hyrule himself with his hand against the gleaming surface of the Triforce, "I have now the Golden Triangles." He suddenly throws back his head, and looks up at the watery sky, "Gods of the Triforce! Hear that which _I_ desire! Hope! I desire hope for these children! Give them a future! Wash away this ancient land of Hyrule! Let a ray of hope shine on the future of the world!" His gaze lowers again to me as the Great Triforce glows brightly, "And let our destinies finally be fulfilled. . .Ganondorf! May you _drown_ with Hyrule!"

_----------_

The glow from the Triforce fades, and I try to be silent and observe Link's reaction. I wish to just block out everything and watch my. . .friend. . .and it would be entirely possible, as I am a Sheikah, and trained in the arts of observation. . .However, I cannot let any important information just pass me by. . .  
  
So, I try to keep an eye on both.  
  
Our entire underwater world here rumbles, and I look up just in time to see whatever magical barrier existed shattering and long spouts of water dropping down to the ground below. . .  
  
The place is flooding. . ._Completely_.  
  
The Triforce pieces suddenly shoot off in different directions, as if they won't have any part of each other. They all fly upward, as if to the heavens, trying to escape this underwater coffin they themselves have created.  
  
I hear Ganondorf laugh with a strange finality as I ponder Link's reactions to current events. His. . .mood swing seems a bit strange to me, though that could either be from him loosing his Triforce piece (it would be understandable, as that is a link between the soul and the Goddesses themselves) or if this was some kind of defensive behavior against his rival. . .  
  
Something tells me. . ._This_ is the Link who killed Diablo and Mephisto. . .  
  
I take a few steps back when his hard gaze comes across mine, urging me to move. I do so, willingly but still worried. Coming near the edge of the tower, I cross my arms in a vain attempt to keep up my cold, hard appearance.  
  
I notice the kid on the far side, who looks surprisingly like Link slowly struggle to stand. He seems to be rather beaten and bruised, and I don't even think he should be trying. Ganondorf suddenly turns around, staring down at the boy by his feet, a smirk on his olive face.  
  
"This is foolishness... A future... for you?"  
  
A tough leather boot protected by a thick set of grieves suddenly lashes out, hitting the boy in the stomach. He goes flying, his body size when compared to Gannon's about the size of some sport ball. He hits the ground, screaming and rolling for many feet, before coming to a stop, across from the royally dressed child.  
  
I stare at the scene in disgust - that is horribly _cruel_ to do to a child! I think his ribs are probably broken - and I barely catch the gasp of hatred/surprise that escapes Link's lips as he takes a step forward, his sword hand tightening its grip.  
  
Ganon laughs.  
  
"I don't know how you managed to make it here, Hero," he says, that sneer still on his face. It seems like he has accepted his destiny to die here, today, but he plans on taking everyone and everything with him, "Especially with your descendant here to fight me, but-"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Link interrupts, a slight hint of confusion on his face, "That kid isn't mine. I never had any."  
  
". . .No matter. You made it here none the less. . .To see. . .Very well, then... Allow me to show you. . ." He mutters, his grin increasing as he draws two long scimitars from beneath his dark robes, "Your future. . .Yes. . .Allow me to show you. . .Just what hope you have. . ._See how much your precious Triforce is worth_!"  
  
And then. . .He charged.

_----------_

Ganondorf is suddenly racing toward me, and with that same smirk from earlier on my face I raise the Hellplauge up in a brilliant arc (which I can't help but notice is followed by a trailing red aura) and the blade clashes with his. Before I can even think of increasing my strength behind the block I am moving again, trying to avoid his second sword.  
  
Oh, shit. . .With him having two swords. . .I have to move twice as fast. . .  
  
I duck under his next attack, a horizontal swipe, and then roll as he attemps a vertical. Both of his blades are shorter than the Hellplague, but its the number disadvantage that is going to make this tough. . .If I can somehow fool him. . .I could hurt him. . .  
  
My dodge has put me at a bit of a disposition, as I can't see what he's doing, but I can hear the blades whistling through the air. I back flip, right in front of the King of Evil, his twin blades barely missing me. As I get one quick glimpse of his face before I land, I can see his angry scowl there, his absolute hate. As I hit the ground I backflip another two Times to put some temporary distance between us.  
  
"Is that all you've got?" I shake my head, chuckling briefly, "You haven't really improved, have you?"  
  
At first he says nothing, but the words slowly pull themselves from his lips in a dangerous haze of pride, ". . .I am _far_ stronger than you could ever be."  
  
I make it blatantly obvious that I scoff at that idea.  
  
"Oh, really?" I take a few steps forward, and let some long hidden pride come forth. . .After all, that's what enemies do. They taunt and flaunt their abilities, "Do you have any idea where I've been for the last six hundred years, Ganon? No?" I give him a terribly fake sympathetic look, just to push him farther into his hatred, ". . .I hear you just recently got out of your prison. . ."  
  
"I got out of your trap a long time ago, Hero," he absolutely spat out the name, "It was the second sealing that trapped me for this long."  
  
I frown slightly, trying to hide my expression of distaste, ". . .Whatever. I only got out of my prison, oh, I don't know. . .Less that two months ago, for sure."  
  
"And who was able to contain the _almighty Hero of Time_?" Of course, every ounce of hate he could muster was put into the sentence. I grin.  
  
"Oh, there are lotsa people who want me dead." Oh, come on. . .I gotta bait this trap right. . .Too much information coupled with his rage will have to distract him. He'll start questioning everything and-  
  
Ganon suddenly takes it in a slightly different direction, "You _know_ you can't beat me," I roll my eyes at this, but he continues, "You don't even have a shield anymore."  
  
"Like I need a shield to kick your ass. Listen, we're running out of Time. I was hoping to have somewhat of a chat with you, seeing as you probably know more of what's going on then I do, but this place is gonna flood and I don't know about you, but I'm not the best at breathing underwater."  
  
Ganondorf simply raises an eyebrow at my words - I don't think he's the only one - but I just sigh and shrug my shoulders. He seems to get the hint and is ready for when I leap at him. I start with a horizontal strike, which he easily blocks. I was expecting that, and so it is no hardship to duck under his follow up and score a light cut up his bicep.  
  
Ganondorf hisses, though most likely not in pain. He doesn't hesitate with his next move, and I am forced to quickly sidestep the attack. I don't quite make it, unfortunately, as one of his blades manages to cut into my rib cage. Not badly, but it still hurts a little.  
  
Not that important. I've fought a lot worse.  
  
He puts on a sinister grin, but it is soon removed when he sees that I have not finished. I continue my 'dodge' despite the lack of need for it, mentally preparing to build up the energies I'll need for this in my palm in an instant.  
  
There is no small measure of surprise when my hand flares to life in a brilliant orange red flame. Ganon has no Time to react as I literally shoot the thing into his chest, catching those black robes of his on fire. With a snarl, he jerks back at the same Time I do (though I do it to keep from catching) and he swats at the flame in a desperate bid to put it out.  
  
I can already feel the strain that the single move has caused me, and I notice all too well the bead of sweat that drips down from my hairline. . .Gods, running out of Time. . .I need to think of something fast. . .  
  
Ganon has temporarily stopped beating his chest and takes another swing at me, I raise the Hellplauge in a block, and am instantly glad to see it light up in its own flame. With a grin that I know is getting a little _too_ dark, I immediately release the defensive maneuver and spin about, gaining momentum for my attack.  
  
Obviously Ganondorf is surprised by my blade's talent, and the move manages to slip past his defenses forming a nice gouge in his chest. Nothing serious, however, and I am forced to abandon my close up position lest I suffer a similar attack. I dodge his offensive easily enough, ducking and diving to avoid his wild twin blades. I skid to a stop about eight or nine feet to his left, the Hellplauge no longer blazing but dimly lit with a misty red fire.  
  
[_Could always summon Shiva,_] I think briefly, dismissing the idea before I even have a chance to fully form it, [_No, I can't. . .Would take to long. . .Leave me vulnerable. Like I even know how to do it._]  
  
Ganondorf is idly inspecting his wounds, and I notice with disdain that the fire has finished, only charring the skin and robes, not actually causing serious damage. I curse violently in my mind and look for a solution.  
  
If it wasn't for his tough defense, I could hurt him. With what? I don't know. . ._If _only I had the light arrows. . .  
  
My eyes suddenly widen. That's it!  
  
I swiftly turn about and face Sheik. I notice out of the corner of my eye Ganondorf questioning my movements with a raised eyebrow, but I dismiss him almost as soon as I acknowledge him. Sheik sees my expression, and when I mouth the words 'Just for a moment', he's instantly running towards me, almost faster than I can move away.  
  
Ganondorf frowns and takes a slash at me as I move, but suddenly Sheik's there and he blocks it with his daggers, his movements lightning fast. Best thing is that they both have two weapons, so the only thing separating them is their blade size. Ganondorf has large scimitars, while Sheik's only got daggers, but Sheik's a lot faster while Ganon is a lot stronger. . .  
  
I force the thought out of my mind and continue on to see the observers to this battle : the two kids and the King. The two kids are right beside each other, the Princess Zelda look a like leaning right over the kid who looks like. . .  
  
A LOT like me. . .  
  
I blink once or twice, trying to shake the confusion in my mind - this is really strange, he looks almost exactly like me and yet I never had a family - but I soon come back to myself. The boy is unconscious and the girl is staring up at me, a look of hope and sadness in her eyes.  
  
"He. . .He _won't_ wake up."  
  
I frown and lean over him myself, placing two fingers at his throat. Well. . .He's alive (I relay as much to the girl, who's makeup is really getting to me. . .Geez, she's like some preteen whore) but he's still unconscious. . .I lapse into silence, glancing at the girl and occasionally at Sheik behind me. He's doing great - Ganon's attacks are hard on him, but if he can dodge them he'll be fine. I just don't know how long he can continue to keep this up.  
  
The girl follows my gaze, her eyes wandering over on to the Sheikah. It is only then, with her body at an angle do I see the weapon she holds in her hands.  
  
"Hey, um," I start nervously, noticing how this all seems to be caught in some vortex of speed, where everything is going way too fast, "Do you, uh, know how to fire a light arrow?"  
  
She looks back at me, her eyelashes blinking slowly, "Well, yes, yes I do. Why?"  
  
"Ganon is weak to them, I know that much. I hate to ask this of you, but I need you to fire some at him. I would but. . .I can't."  
  
Her stare intensifies, "Why not?"  
  
"I. . ." [_The truth, Link, the truth. . _.], "I don't know. . .I - I. . .I can't remember how. It's like I can't call up on that energy anymore."  
  
She gives me a bit of a cynical look, and I get ready to retort in some sarcastic, smart ass comment like way but suddenly her expression melts and she's looking all worried, concerned about the little, uh, Link.  
  
"Fine," she replies, drawing my attention back up from my boot which I noticed is starting to get more than just a little bit wet, "If it will help. . .I'll do it." I nod, as does she.  
  
"Okay, what I need you to do is fire a light arrow at Ganondorf. . .We'll need some kinda signal, just so you don't hit Sheik and me-"  
  
Her expression suddenly turns angry, "I'm not _that_ bad of a shot!"  
  
I roll my eyes, "Did I specifically say that you were? I just meant, uh, that one of us could dodge and end up right in the middle of your firing range. An arrow through the chest is not very healthy, and I want to avoid that possibility as much as I can." She nods, and then sighs.  
  
"I'm. . .I'm sorry, this is all just. . .Just so much, I-"  
  
"Hey! Don't break down on me or anything," I say, "I. . .I'm sorry, but could you please just shoot the arrows at him? It will make things a lot easier."  
  
She looks up at me, her blue eyes shining brightly. There is a long moment in which I stare at her bright blonde hair, the very image of her reminding me so much of the home I have left behind, unwillingly. Eventually she nods, and a weak smile appears on my face.  
  
"Thank you," I turn around, facing the battle again, "SHEIK!"  
  
He crosses blades with Ganondorf, but just as the King is about to attack again, he ducks under the swipe. Ganondorf does not expect this, and stumbles past the Sheikah with surprise written all over his face. Sheik pays no attention to the giant man, standing straight up and looking at me with curiosity.  
  
With a smile I continue, "My turn now!" He nods, and I race over.  
  
Ganondorf has since recovered and is now spinning, making a strike at Sheik. Without even looking, my agile friend suddenly leaps upwards, doing a strange cartwheel like flip a good five feet off the ground. He doesn't extend his arms though, and his upper body moves right above the blade with ease.  
  
I quickly take his place, blocking one of Ganon's attacks and dodging another. He's swiping furiously at me, and it is no small relief when I hear the familiar hum of a light arrow being formed. From behind Ganon there is a bright yellow glow.  
  
Suddenly there is a snap like noise, and Ganondorf - who was preparing for another attack - cries out in pain and anger, lurching forward. A thunk sound, as the arrow penetrates his flesh. I smile grimly, watching him fall to his knees as the golden glow starts to spread across his body, temporarily paralyzing him.  
  
I know I do not have much Time, so I strike. It annoys me to see that he was able to dodge the blow slightly - it hits into his shoulder rather than his heart - but I am still pleased.   
  
That should at least slow him down a little.  
  
He glances up at me, his eyes locked into a fierce glare, and quickly he stands up. I notice a slight sway in his step as he briskly turns around, his somewhat torn black robes making him seem somehow even eviller.  
  
At first I wonder what he is going to say, if anything at all, but all I can do is watch as he sends a bolt of dark magic at the young girl. It hits into her before she can even think of moving, and the crackling energy is almost overcome by her scream. She flies backwards several feet, before falling to the ground dead or unconscious. I can't be sure.  
  
He turns towards me, slowly, royally, and there are suddenly only two things in my world - the deadening loneliness sparked by the sudden loss of my Triforce piece, and the look of anger in his eyes.  
  
"So, you thought you could pull your old tricks on me, eh?" He throws his head back and laughs maliciously, but I have heard far worse sounds-  
  
[_Screams, oh GODDESSES she's screaming and there's nothing I can do and oh please make her stop-_]  
  
-so all I do is raise my sword in preparation.  
  
"You. . ." he chuckles again briefly, before continuing, "You honestly _think_ that _you_ can defeat me, don't you?" He takes a few steps forward, his form lumbering over mine. The Hellplauge seems to notice his malicious attempt, and flares, ". . .Let me show you just how _futile_ it is!"

_----------_

Though I am angered to see his eyes widen only slightly, the Hero does take a brief step back as I charge. That soon changes, however, and instead he moves forward, raising his blade to attack. Our blades clash with a loud clang, and our faces are within inches of each other.  
  
Whatever has happened. . .This is _not_ the same Hero I fought before.  
  
He has changed.  
  
Darker, different.  
  
The flames on his blade reach out, as if trying to lick my face with their heat, and I pull away before any unwanted damage can occur. Immediately again he attacks, and in one swift movement I knock his blade to the side. I move to strike again, but the damn fool is too fast and swiftly dodges to the side with a roll. It doesn't matter.  
  
Another attack, and this Time, he meets it strongly. I am just about to throw my weight forward and try to topple him over backwards, but he beats me to it, and though I do not fall, I do stumble back a step. He glares at me, the look in his eyes not one that I would expect to see in a Hero. . .  
  
He spins tightly, bringing his blade across my chest in a narrow cut. Pain floods my flesh, and I jerk away from the fiery blade. I glance down to see my skin charred around the laceration, and it is also terribly sore. A wound that small should not hurt so much. . .I wonder if it has to do with that blade he carries. . .  
  
Without warning, I raise my sword in an upwards slash.

_----------_

The move catches me by surprise, and next thing I know I can feel the blade carve its way up my stomach painfully, and somewhere deep within the explosion of white hot pain that has enveloped me is that I hope it isn't too deep. The tip of his sword moves upwards, up my chest and it almost manages to hit my neck - by some miracle I had the piece of mind to pull it and my head back out of the way. The move itself is blindingly fast, or maybe it was just because he caught me off guard.  
  
I fall backwards, eyes barely open and perceiving the world. The blue haze is all I can see, except maybe for that red that splashes across my vision. Falling in slow motion, I hit the ground beneath me with a painful thud.  
  
I probably wouldn't have moved right away - the attack left my mind reeling and my torso sore - but the sound of a blade slicing through the air, singing-  
  
_/Move, damn you, MOVE!_  
  
-and suddenly I'm rolling to my right, and there's a sharp chink-  
  
[_-Sword hitting stone-_]  
  
-and I come to a stop a few moments later, painfully aware not only of the gash in my chest (deeper than I had thought) and the throbbing ache of my missing Triforce. The Hellplague warms in my hands, almost as if at least trying to rid me of the chill, but I realize too late what it really means to do.  
  
It's warning me.  
  
I turn to my left just in Time to get a close up of the boot that slams into my chest. The hit is hard, as it must be a steel toed boot - [_Goddesses, I can't breathe! -_] and its near perfect aim has managed to hit me right on my gash, sending waves of fire throughout my nerves.  
  
The hit forces me up, leaving the ground for a slight moment before falling back down. I try to catch myself with my arms but there's no strength in them and I just fall flat on my face, panting into the stone beneath my aching fingers.  
  
My arms tremble, as someone - probably my enemy - rolls me over, using the toe of his boot to do so. Soon I am laying on my back, staring up at a dark shadow looming over me, and in the distance a wavering blue sky, looking ready to fall. . .I can feel water start to pool around me.  
  
Or maybe it _isn't_ water. . .  
  
The figure moves, a laugh sounds, and a gleam of cold hard steel is all I see before it plunges down. . .

_----------_

I dash over, knowing that _even_ with my Sheikah speed that I am already too late, and all I can do is wince as I see the blade bear down upon my friend and skewer his stomach. His already limp body lurches as a wave of blood sprays forward, and his eyes open wide as I assume pain flows through him. There is a choked cry from his throat, dry and painful sounding, catching as Ganon lifts the blade out with a harsh jerk.  
  
My feet pounding away at the stone beneath me, splashing loudly as I cross the puddles that have begun to form, pooling in the cracks and dips of the top of this tower. I watch with a grimace on my face, as Link rolls over, hands gripping vainly at the stone bricks beneath him.  
  
A loud wrenching cough.  
  
Blood.  
  
Shit. . .He's coughing up blood. . .  
  
At first I can almost convince myself that he'll get up any moment, but suddenly he droops - I can see him try to fight it, tottering on the brink of unconsciousness - and lays flat down on the ground. My eyes narrow.  
  
Ganon. . .You are going to-  
  
The rest of the thought is cut out by the sound of my daggers clashing with Ganon's twin blades. My scowl is blocked out by my guise, but I don't think it matters.  
  
There must be pure, undying hatred in my eyes.  
  
[_I WILL KILL HIM!_]  
  
I slash out at Ganondorf, scoring cuts and stabs here and there - I am moving way to fast, he has no bloody chance at keeping up with me - but I can't seem to manage that fatal hit. I get a good stab in his left elbow, and he cries out in pain, drooping the sword that arm carried.  
  
I don't stop.  
  
I strike again, slashing him in the chest. The wound isn't deep, but it is a good hit nonetheless. He jerks away, a somewhat worried snarl on his face. I follow, taking another jab.  
  
He manages to block.  
  
I attack again.  
  
At some point during our heated battle, I look over at Link. That girl. . .She's up on her feet again, helping Link. The front of her royal clothes is somewhat burnt - but otherwise she looks okay. The bow is no longer in her hands but I can see her tearing up her pink dress and trying to stop his bleeding. I give her a passing smile (it isn't until later that I realize she would never have been able to see it with my guise on, even if she had been looking at me) and continue to fight.  
  
Ganon manages a cut to my right arm - nothing serious, just a scratch I swear - but it still hurts and I fight not to drop my dagger. He laughs at me, that deep darkness in the back of his voice, and he temporarily lowers his weapon.  
  
"All this time," he muses, out loud, "_All _this _time_ and that's _ALL_ it took. . .It was _that_ easy. . .He was _no_ Hero. . ."   
  
A low growl issues from my throat, "You goddamn _bastard_!" He laughs again.  
  
"I _cannot_ be defeated Sheikah," a deadly smile forms on his lips, "Not by you. . .Not by _your_ Hero. . ."   
  
Without warning I lunge towards him, my moves so blindingly simple that he is able to block them with easy, but I can't think straight. Rage is blinding my eyes, the haze in my sight red. . .I will have my revenge. . .  
  
Before we can even attempt another attack, there is suddenly a bright yellow light erupts from behind Gannon, and suddenly, just before he can go down with a cry, he manages to push me aside. I fall back, landing beside Link - who suddenly isn't laying down anymore.  
  
I catch sight of his boots first, and I turn, looking up at him. His posture is bad - slouching forward, swaying where he stands - Goddesses, he can barely stand. What the hell is he doing?  
  
With his right hand he holds a strip of cloth to his stomach, where he was impaled. His eyes are barely open - just thin slits with the barest hint of blue beyond - and I can see how he sweats, the perspiration running down his forehead. The blood is dripping down his legs in streams, and his breath is coming heavy. In his left hand is that sword of his, though I can see that he's barely able to hold on to it-  
  
Ganondorf cries out in utter agony, and when I turn to face him I see him on his knees again, that strange golden lightning racing through his body. I watch him for a moment, and suddenly Link is walking towards him, each step so carefully taken, so slowly. . .I want to help, I really do, but it is suddenly like I just can't move. . .  
  
Link's sword is dragging across the stone, he's too weak to lift it up. . .Ganondorf raises his head at the Half Breed's movements, a hateful sneer on his face, even as his body seizures. Link seems to pay him no real attention, just stumbling closer and closer. He finally comes to a stop before the torn and still shaking form of his enemy. With no warning, his sword is raised, high above his head in both hands.  
  
"_Die_," the word are quiet, flat, dull. Final.  
  
Fatalistic.  
  
The sword comes down, and there is a haze of blood. I can't see what's happened. . .Link's in my way. . .  
  
He yanks out the sword, stands there, and sways, and then falls backwards. He falls to the ground with a thud, the sword clanging down beside him, both of their blood splattered all over him. Beyond Link I see Ganondorf, a hole in his head and a strange white crust creeping up his body-  
  
[_He's turning into. . .stone?_]  
  
Ganon's eyes turn upwards, towards the falling water. He seems to think to himself for a minute, deeply, as the stone crawls up his legs and torso, "Ughnn. . .Heh Heh. . .The wind. . .It _is_ blowing. . ." His eyes close, and at last the stone magic continues towards his neck and head.  
  
Whatever strange magic is causing this continues up his body, and soon Ganondorf is nothing more than a statue, forever frozen in his final death throes. Behind him, I can see that younger version of Link standing, almost in as bad shape as the Half Breed is. He's bleeding and has already half collapsed, one of his eyes shut and crusted over with blood. I can see him holding that bow, and I have to offer him my silent thanks. . .  
  
Link needs my help now.  
  
That girl runs over to the other kid, fawning over him like some lost puppy. I sigh and roll my eyes, running over towards Link. I look up quickly, and see the two kids talking with some old man in red robes, who looks rather kingly. I shake my head and look down at Link.  
  
That cloth he had against his stomach earlier is still there, pasted there by his own blood. My frown not only appears but deepens immediately at the sight. The rise and fall of his chest is slow, uneven. Crimson liquid stains his lips, which are parted slightly as he fights for air. Damn, there's a lot of blood. . .  
  
I lean over him to start working on the wounds, but all of the sudden, the world flashes white. I jerk my head up, finding only myself and Link in this void, all alone. There is_ no_ sound, _no_ darkness, _no_ form. . .Everything is lost into the abyss. . .

_----------_

"**I KNOW what your doing, you know.**"  
  
"_And you think it matters to me?_"  
  
"**Listen, I should-**"  
  
"_She won't listen to you, anyway. Give up on it. He's of no consequence to you._"  
  
"**Whatever it is you are planning-**"  
  
"_Listen, I don't care what you think. You are in no position to bother me, or the Hero._"  
  
**". . .You will regret that, mark my words. . .**"

_----------_

_A/N : Sorry a bit late, um, if anyone thinks that this could use revision (aka you think it sucks), just let me know and I will get right on it! Okay, one more piece of news! ElementalGoddess, if you, like, just email me, I can get your address that way, ya know. And that way, you wouldn't expose it to anyone.  
  
Thanks to every one for reviewing!_


	47. Chapter XLVI Your Eyes

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter XLVI - Your Eyes_

-----------  
  
There's this annoying feeling in my head - almost like a dull ache, but there's no pain really - and I can't seem to sleep because it keeps persisting, keeping me from falling back into that blackness. I stir vaguely, and try to shake it off, and fall back into that oblivion but I can't.  
  
Grumbling something about the stupidity of it all, I shift slightly, and open my eyes to the bright light of the morn.  
  
And barely hold back a scream.  
  
Right before my eyes is a hand, covered with sweat, blood pooling in the palm-  
  
Shit, Link!  
  
-And suddenly I am scrambling to my feet, trying to remain calm as I stare at the bleeding form of my friend.  
  
[_. . .Shit._]  
  
He's lying there, on his back, and I can see him shivering and bleeding, his left hand twitching ever so slightly. His eyes race beneath their lids, and for one second, distantly I wonder what he dreams about. . .  
  
[_Maybe he has nightmares about Hell,_] I think, desperately trying to remain calm as I kneel down beside Link, and begin my work, [_Or. . .does he dream about the times before, about Gannondorf and that Zelda woman?_] I work quickly at cleaning the gore out of Link's wounds, trying to ignore the moans of pain and discomfort he emits.  
  
[_. . .Does he dream of when he was sealed?_]  
  
I briefly shake my head at the thought and focus back on Link. Immediately, the concern floods through me, and it is only then that I notice my hands are shaking and chilled with a cold sweat.  
  
He tries to escape my ministrations, pulling away ever so weakly, but I ignore his actions and instead continue my work, fighting against time. If I take too long cleaning his wounds, then he may bleed to death (and I have a feeling that he's getting close to that point), but if I just wrap them now, they'll get infected.  
  
[_Damn. . .Gannon really did a number on him. . ._] I frown, watching Link's chest slowly rise and fall, [_Luckily. . .I don't think any organs were wounded,_] I take a glance towards Link's face, and wipe away the trail of blood that drips down from the corner of his lips, [_Not permanently, anyway. . ._]  
  
I place a hand on his forehead, trying to gauge his temperature. It's higher than I hoped it would be, but not too dangerous. . .At least, not yet. Still, this does not rest easy with me, and I desperately want to yell at Link and scream at him to get better-  
  
[THIS_ coming from a Sheikah?_]  
  
. . .Why do I care about him so much? Wouldn't it make so much more sense for me to just get up, and walk away? Here I am, worrying over a Half Breed that I don't even know all that well and have no blood ties to, and yet I don't leave. Looking after him like this really hampers the chances of my survival. . .  
  
[_You did it in Hell, as well. . ._]  
  
[That_ was _different_. I needed his help to get out of that place._]  
  
[_Admit it, you _do _care about him. . ._]  
  
I gaze down at the still shivering Link, who is mumbling incoherent words through clenched teeth.  
  
[_. . .Perhaps even as a friend?_]  
  
I frown at that, forcing myself to continue bandaging up Link as I argue internally.  
  
[_. . .Maybe._]  
  
He twitches away from me, but there is no where for him to go. I just hold him down, trying to make sure he doesn't lose any more blood that he already has. With a sigh, he finally settles down a little and lets me do some work. I offer a prayer of thanks to anything that is listening, and try to quickly finish up my work.  
  
[_I wonder. . .Where are we?_]  
  
Sparing a quick glance, I take in my surroundings. Sand, and tropical trees. Surrounded by foliage, in a small clearing.  
  
An island, maybe?  
  
. . .  
  
Did we somehow make it to the surface after the tower was flooded?  
  
[_I. . .I remember a. . .bright flash of light?_]  
  
Another one of Link's unintelligible murmurs brings me back from my thoughts, and I stare down at his sweat soaked face, watching with some degree of pity in my eyes as he twitches with the pain that has got to be roaring through his body right now.  
  
[_A friend. . .? . . .Maybe. . ._] I reach for a cloth, and wipe the sweat from his face, then down to his neck where it is beginning to pool and soak the remains of his ripped clothing. Something catches from the cloth (more of a strip of bandages, really), and I watch as a small blue object falls, landing on his collar.  
  
[_. . .The Soul Stone?_]  
  
It just lays there, on his clothes, a dull blue color with no apparent importance in its appearance. I stare at it for a moment, vaguely realize that with the lack of shine in it, something must be wrong, when it suddenly flares up, the intensity of the light nearly blinding.  
  
I raise a hand to shield my eyes, but halt my movements when I feel Link jerk underneath my fingers. I watch as he convulses yet again, my eyes screaming at me to cover them from the bright light that is still so harsh.  
  
He screams then, the noise so loud and haunting that my hands immediately start going towards my ears, but I force myself to stop when I see the red stain spread across his bandages even further.  
  
[_Shit. . .He's tearing open his wounds. . .!_]  
  
My hands race down and firmly plant themselves on his shoulders, trying to hold him down. He is weak, very much so, yet still he manages to try and fight against my strength. With each twitch his muscles make, I can see that blood stain spreading, and it's all I can do to continue to keep my calm.  
  
"Link, _calm down_, just- LINK!" I cry out as he begins fighting even more, his screams not as loud but more anguished, and the thoughts begin racing through my head. What could be doing this? How can I make it stop? He twists and turns beneath my hands, as if he truly believes he is in some kind of danger.  
  
His eyes are wide with disbelief, his body feverishly hot, his jaw slack as he struggles wickedly against me. My own expression is narrowed eyes and a determined expression, as I force him to remain still.  
  
If he keeps this up, he will bleed to death and-  
  
Suddenly, his body goes limp (and fear runs rampant through my mind) and sags against the ground, my hands holding a non resisting body. His eyes are still slightly open, only slits, dazed and uncertain, but not really caring. Relaxed. At first, I believe this to just be his energy running short, and that makes me want to hurry all the more, but. . .  
  
We're not alone here.  
  
Just as I am about to look about for our unwelcome visitor, a flash of bright green light (no, not a flash. . .A brilliant, glowing orb) floats from beside me, and I find myself frozen to the spot, my limbs suddenly numb.  
  
Green. . .Green like the grass and fresh leaves on young trees-  
  
Green. . .Like _her_ eyes. . .  
  
I close my eyes and shudder with that thought, too many bad memories running through my head. By the time I open my eyes again, the orb has made its way over to Link, and is hovering right beside him now.  
  
"What. . ." I clear my throat, feeling strangely awkward, "What _are_ you. . .?"  
  
The orb looks at me (I swear it did, even though it doesn't have eyes), and a quite, soft, and yet determined voice speaks out, _"You have done well, Sheikah, but there is yet so much more to be done."  
_  
"What? I-"  
  
_"Do you not recognize me?"_ the distinctly female voice asks, longing and sorrowful,_ "No, it is no surprise that the memory has escaped you - perhaps it was too much to hope that you could remember. . ."  
_  
I frown at the orb, and suddenly, there is another flash of white - bright, blocking out all other sight - and for the moment, the critically injured Link is only a distant thought in the back of my head as I raise my hand to block out the light.  
  
_"Look upon me Sheikah - may there be no secrets between us."_ I open my eyes at her words, and see a distinctly familiar figure - though one I have never seen before in my waking life.  
  
"Lady Farore," I say in a gasp. A sorrowful smile graces Her haunted face.  
  
_"Indeed, here I am, before you,"_ She replies, and I study Her without shame. She is not fully here - not in the physical sense - Her body is translucent, white surrounded by a green aura. There is a bit of a haze around Her body, and it is hard, but I can make out that wherever She really is, she is wearing some battle leathers. Nothing heavy, but nice, light protection. Her face is clear to my eyes, and beyond beautiful. Curly, shoulder length hair, shapely eyes, a sculpted face.  
  
I shake myself out of my thoughts, realizing how bad I was staring, "But. . .why? Why are you here?" An amusement that may have been on Her face falls flat as her gaze wonders down on to the wounded hero.  
  
_"You've looked after him well,"_ One of Her hands slowly descends, stroking his hair though it does not move as She is not truly here, _"I must thank you for that."_ At Her touch, his breathing seems to even out slightly, though he still continues to shiver and sweat, _". . .It appears, that even after all these years, he still recognizes me. . ."  
_  
"What are you talking about?" I ask, vaguely aware of the somewhat rude tone of my voice.  
  
She glances up sharply at me, the sudden intensity of Her gaze makes me want to pull away, break eye contact,_ "Tell him. . .Tell him I'm sorry,"_ She whispers, quiet enough that I am left wondering if I heard Her right,_ ". . .And that. . .This time. . .Don't let him lose hope."  
_  
I am just about to question Her actions further, when She waves a hand over his body, slowly, and wisps of green light uncurl themselves from Her aura, and wander down to his body. Link still turns slightly in his uneasy rest, and I can easily see the sheen of sweat that coats his form.  
  
The instant the light touches his body, he jerks almost painfully and I can barely hold myself back from reaching out to help him. A low groan emits from his throat as the light is absorbed by his skin, and I see him shudder once, greatly, before relaxing again. His eyes shut, and slowly, he falls into a deep sleep.  
  
"I-" I glance up, to continue speaking to the Goddess Farore, and question further, but as I look I notice suddenly that She is gone. It is just me and Link now, who has finally relaxed-  
  
[_What was wrong with him, anyway? A fever, maybe?. . .Or, did it have to do with the Soul Stone?_]  
  
I watch as Link's left hand twitches slightly, his fingers trying to grip something that isn't there. I look, curious, and am somewhat surprised to see the emblem of the Triforce on the other side, the triangle of Courage glowing brightly. . .Farore must have given it to him. . .  
  
[_Is _that _why She came here?_]  
  
She spoke almost as if she knew me well. . .Same with Link. . .

_"Even after all of these years, he still recognizes me. . ."_

My frown tightens, as I watch Link breathe. He's no longer fighting at all, completely oblivious to the world. He is breathing more steadily now, and his shivering has lessened. A quick check confirms that his wounds did tear a little, but it is already on the way to fixing itself.  
  
Did Farore. . .  
  
Did she help him. . .?  
  
. . .There is just _so_ much I don't understand. . .  
  
That sword Link carries around, and what its doing to him. His connection to the Triforce. Why Farore's interested in him, and how she seems to know us so well. . .The Prime Evils and Tyrael, the obviously want something from Link, but I can't seem to figure out what it is. . .  
  
Why Link seems so strange, as if he doesn't belong here. . .His way of speaking is strange, though I am quickly adopting it myself. . .  
  
The way he spaces out sometimes, almost as if he is in deep thought. . .  
  
Why he is so cold so often. . .  
  
That weird Sight-like ability of his. . .  
  
And somewhere, within all of that, the Soul Stone fits in, an intricate piece of the puzzle. . . But I can't see how this fits together. . .  
  
I start when I hear Link groan and see him shiver in the cool air. Indeed, it is a fair amount colder than before, as the sun is beginning to set, and I had to remove what was left of his shirt, both in use for bandages and as they would only get in the way. All that was left was no more than tatters, and wouldn't have kept him warm anyway.  
  
[_Shit. . .And I don't see any shelter near by, either. . ._]  
  
Link curls up upon himself, his body trying so hard to trap in the heat, but I can see where this is going, and I will not having him rip open his wounds and make them any worse. Moving quickly, I lay down beside him, and place my arm behind his head. Almost as if sensing my warmth, he turns slightly, moving closer to me. I frown, the situation kinda awkward, but there is not much I can do about it, unless I want him to freeze in the night.  
  
With a sigh, I relax, and shut my tired eyes. It doesn't take long for sleep to overcome me.

----------  
  
_{ "Time and Fate are one and the same, they are destiny." She spoke slowly, her voice clearly pronouncing each word with an undeniable grace, "They cannot be separated. For Time to die, Fate too would fall. They are interconnected in a way that no one else shall ever understand. The bond is deeper than any lover can ever fathom, more powerful even than Hate."   
  
She looks up at me, a deep understanding in her glance, knowledge beyond the wisdom of the stars, "Destroy Time, and Destiny shall die. And thus comes the end. Existence would end not in a bang, like the old tales tell, but in a whisper. There would be no final day, no apocalypse, no reign of terror. Nothing. There would be nothing. If Destiny dies, if Time itself falls, there shall be no more."  
  
"Time will erode away, and Fate shall disappear. Order would end, and with it Balance. Chaos will collapse on itself, and drive the world unto unending madness. . .If Destiny dies, than the end comes, as the days fade away and there is no night after sunset. There will be no dawn. . ."  
  
She glances down, almost ashamed, her hand resting against her collar, "Perhaps, I am not making sense. . .You will understand someday. . ." Her eyes, bright, green, an emerald of the forest, the color of new life meet with mine, and I find myself unable to move.  
  
". . .But by then, it may be too late. . ." }_

_-----------  
_  
With a groan, I stir awake, feeling oddly. . .Drained. Tired. Beaten. I open my heavy eyes to a world filled with dazzling light, and I try to raise a hand to block out the harsh bright light, but I find myself unable to move.  
  
At least, unable to do so without some serious pain.  
  
I choke back a cry through clenched teeth, eyes shut, my face contorted in a grimace.  
  
What happened?  
  
I feel decidedly warm. . .Warm and rather. . .comfortable. . .This time, being more careful, I take in the world about me more slowly, opening my eyes at a pace which normally would drive me nuts. . .  
  
Before me is a expanse of cloth. . .I reach out gingerly with one hand and touch it briefly, inwardly surprised.  
  
Sheik?  
  
He's got his arms wrapped around me, and I am pulled close towards him. He is sound asleep by the looks of it, resting comfortably and in good health.  
  
So _what's_ wrong with me?  
  
I open my mouth to ask, to wake him up (as much as I would hate doing that) but I am immediately struck by how dry my mouth is.  
  
"Sh-Sheik?" I rasp, hoping to grab his attention.  
  
He stirs slightly and mutters back, "Wha?"  
  
I feel almost guilty by what I am about to ask, but I have no choice and I know that I could not stand if I wanted to, "W-water?" His eyes flutter ever so slightly, and suddenly snap open, briefly losing their focus. He stares at me intensely.  
  
"Link? You're awake?" He then seems to notice the position that we're in, and pulls away. I wish he hadn't though, I was very comfortable, "What is it?"  
  
"Can I. . .have something. . .to drink?" Goddesses, my throat is _sore_. . .  
  
"Yeah!" he bounds to his feet, looking rather nervous, "I. . .Give me a moment!" He moves to some spot out of my line of sight, and I don't dare sit up. My sight has improved, and I can see that I am lacking my shirt (at the sudden absence of Sheik, my body shivers. My hands, as always, are cold) and my torso is wrapped by a thick layer of bandages.  
  
"Sheik?" I call out weakly, "what happened?" Suddenly he is by my side again, and holding some container to my lips. Water, sweet cool water rushes out and into my waiting lips, and I drink it greedily-  
  
"Don't worry about what happened. . .Just rest. Get better." There's a bit of a worried expression on his face, and I squint to get a better look, and-  
  
Suddenly, he's staring at me strange, and in the whirlwind of thoughts that is my mind, that observation is enough to make everything else disappear, ". . .wha?"  
  
He shakes his head, moving his gaze away from mine, but he turns it back almost reluctantly, "Your eyes. . .They look _funny_. . .Must just be me, though. . ."  
  
"Th-they're still blue, right?" My voice comes out in a harsh whisper, to which Sheik responds with a nod, "T-then what's wrong. . .?"  
  
"Nothing, Link. It's just my imagination," he replies, and on some deep down level, I know he's lying, "Come on, just relax. Try to get some sleep. . ." And no matter how hard I try otherwise, I soon drift off into a deep black oblivion.

-----------  
  
Once Link is asleep, I allow my face to fall back into a contemplative frown. His eyes. . .One more puzzle to add to all of this nonsense. . .  
  
His eyes. . .They were indeed their normal blue, but instead of being perfectly round. . .They seemed to almost be. . .more elliptical.

----------

_A/N : Okay, about this wait I put you guys through. . .It wasn't because I was lazy. No. First I lost my stupid disk (the one with this chapter on it). Then, it CORRUPTED!! [Twitches]  
  
Would have made this longer, but this is where it was best to stop it.  
  
Okay, a quick question here. Would any of you like to see Link end up with the girl? You can send your answer to me through email, as I am not sure if they allow little 'polls' like this in the reviews. Just curious to your thoughts, is all.  
  
Please, leave a review! _


	48. Chapter XLVII The First Signs

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter XLVII - The First Signs  
  
-----------_  
  
"Oh, don't you _even_ dare-!"  
  
"I'm_ fine_, Sheik."  
  
"Lay back down, you are in_ no_ condition to be standing right now."  
  
"I said, I'm _fine_."  
  
"Don't lie. . .I can see how heavily you are leaning on that log."  
  
"Oh, but come _on_. . .Sheik, I really want to bathe. . .I stink. . .Whew, you could you a dip yourself."  
  
"Link. . ."  
  
". . .Please?"  
  
A sigh, "Alright. . .But make it quick! And don't even think about going deep! I am not diving in after you. . ."  
  
Sheik pulls one of my arms over his shoulder, and then wraps his arm around my waist, trying to help me walk. At first, I think about protesting (struggling a little bit as I try to make up my mind) but I can already feel the drain of my energy in my legs. . .After all, it _was_ only yesterday that I woke up in Sheik's arms (I keep mentioning that just to piss him off and watch him blush).  
  
As much as I hate to admit it, I'm still weak and in pain.  
  
And I smell like blood.  
  
At the thought a strange, sickening feeling rises in the back of my throat and I start to double over.  
  
"Hey, are you alright? Do you need to stop for a minute?"  
  
I mutely shake my head back and forth, fighting to quell my stomach. Recently, I've been feeling very strange all over. I'm feeling occasional, sudden spurts of nausea, random aches and pains (most of which seem focused in my head), shivering. . .  
  
At least my eyes haven't been hurting much recently, though. . .I really want to go to the water to see what's wrong. . .I still catch Sheik staring at my face, and I know exactly what he's looking at. . .I just don't know why it's bothering him. He told me that it was just his imagination, but. . .  
  
What did he see?  
  
At last my stomach unclenches itself, and releases the ache, and I sigh with relief. Sheik waits patiently, shifting my weight slightly, before we again head forward. Once I came awake earlier today, Sheik gave me a bit of food and water before leaving, stating that he wanted to look around.  
  
When he came back, he told me that we are on a small island. . .Surrounded by the ocean.  
  
I can't swim very well. . .  
  
I didn't tell him that, no, not when I'm still so tired that I forget that I'm not alone. . .  
  
Malon has been pestering me a lot recently. . .That second voice though, the one. . .The new one, it hasn't been bothering me too much. . .But I can't place it, and I haven't undergone anything traumatic enough for me to enlist as partner for Malon.  
  
Goddesses _know_ she's doing a good enough job on her own.  
  
Sheik helps me walk over to the small pond and sets me down carefully. Without a word, he turns around, allowing me to have a little privacy. I roughly struggle with my clothes (terribly aware how every movement sends a blast of fiery hot pain through my chest) and at last my pants slip off (my sweater gone as it is no longer usable) and I slide into the water.  
  
It is chill to the touch, which isn't all that surprising, as this pond is in the shade, but I simply shiver, relishing the feeling of the cool liquid along my skin. . .  
  
Though, the cold doesn't do much for my hand. . .  
  
I raise said body part out of the water (grimacing with the motion) and stare at it. I still can't figure out why it is always so cold. . .Except when I hold the Hellplague. . .Then, and only then, is it really ever warm. . .  
  
The pond is surprisingly clear, nice, and calm. . .There are a few leaves, pedals, and bugs floating in the water, but otherwise this is really rather enjoyable. The bottom is soft and sandy. I find myself practically in heaven until I accidental look down.  
  
[_My eyes. . .?_]  
  
I stare down at my reflection, my mouth agape. . .My eyes. . .The irises are the same color, but instead of being perfectly round, they are more. . .more. . .oval.  
  
[_Like a cat's. . ._]  
  
Well, no, that's not true. . .They're not that bad, just not completely round. . .They aren't like, demonic, or anything. . .  
  
[_What could have caused this. . .?_]  
  
"Link, are you almost done?"  
  
"Um, yeah!" I quickly throw my head back (strangling back a grunt of pain) and scrub away at my scalp with my fingernails. It's only a quick, last second job that I'm doing, but at least I can just feel the layers of grime and dirt falling off of me in waves.  
  
Maybe now that smell will also be gone.  
  
_-----------_  
  
Link's ready soon enough, and once he's dressed, I help him to his feet. He has stopped struggling against me, and I am beginning to wonder if it's because he knows it's in vain, or because he's exhausted.  
  
Something tells me it's the latter as I look at his face, easily noticing the exhausted look in his eyes and the way he sags against me.  
  
His eyes. . .I guess it really wasn't just my imagination. Its odd to see them like that. From a distance, the change is not noticeable, but the closer you are, the more obvious it becomes.  
  
I wonder (not for the first time) exactly who or what is doing this to him. A pang of concern runs through my body like a chill, and I inadvertently tighten my grip on the Half Breed. He doesn't seem to notice (and for that I'm glad, he's been going on about him sleeping in my arms for hours now).  
  
We reach our little unofficial, makeshift campsite (not that there's really anything there) in silence. It's really not all that far from the pool, but about a quarter of a mile from the ocean. The strange thing is, that this place does not resemble anything I saw on the great sea. No, instead. . .  
  
I think. . .I might be home. . .  
  
It would make sense, I suppose, for the Triforce, or Farore, or whatever, to have transported us away from the scene of Hyrule. . .Or, well, no. Not really. Sure, I could understand them transporting me away. . .But why Link?  
  
Wasn't part of the King's wish that all of the old Hyrule be drowned?  
  
[_Maybe Farore protected him. . .Saved him. . ._]  
  
But. . .For Farore to go against the wish. . .Act alone. . .  
  
What is going on here?  
  
With every moment that passes, I realize just how much more complicated life is for my. . .my friend. . .Even I, watching this from a mainly outside prospective cannot even begin to fathom just what is going on. I wonder how it seems to him. . .Things must be so confusing. . .  
  
Maybe I shouldn't mention Farore just yet. . .No, not when he is still injured and tired. . .It would just hinder his healing.   
  
We reach the makeshift bed - a small pile of palm tree leaves that I have managed to gather - and I lay the still wounded Hero down on to it's softness. He gasps slightly as the cold leaves touch his bare back, but there's not much I can do to help him there.  
  
At least is warm enough around here that he won't freeze to death.  
  
He relaxes on the leaves with a sigh, shifting about to get comfortable. I don't bother to yell at him - there's no need, his wound won't open up from a little bit of tossing and turning - but instead I pretend to focus my view away from him, down to the small fire I am trying to build.  
  
After all, I need something to cook what I found earlier.  
  
Beside me are a little pile of clams and large crayfish like creatures. . .I've never been on this island before, but I do have enough training to know what's edible and what isn't. The things I found, while definitely anything but pretty, will make for a good meal.  
  
I look over at Link, and take in just how skinny he is. . .I'm probably not much better, it's not like we've been eating regularly for quite some time now. Well, it doesn't really matter. . .Now that we're on land again in a place where we aren't being constantly attacked, we have the time to sit around and heal.  
  
Link meets my gaze with a bit of curiosity, but I simply turn away again, back to what I'm doing. It's obvious he's still tired, exhausted even, and I can see that he's having trouble keeping his eyes open.  
  
Not that it really matters, I can just wake him up once the food's done.  
  
_-----------_  
  
Sheik pointedly ignores my gaze, and so with a sigh I relax back, and let my eyes drift shut. The strong smell of food in the air is enough to make my stomach rumble, but I'm a bit too tired to care. I just let my mind drift off, distantly disturbed by just how numb it all is. There's the usual comforting haze, deep and powerful, overwhelming all of my senses, and I succumb to it without a fight.  
  
Everything, for one moment, feels so right in the world. I have a friend nearby, someone I don't have to worry about stabbing me in the back, I'm not in danger and Malon seems to have forgotten about me (knock on wood). . .  
  
And then, suddenly, there is something wrong. I can feel it.  
  
The unnerving feeling works it's way through my veins, and almost against my will I crack open my eyes, taking in what's going on around me.  
  
I'm lying on my side, staring blearily at the burning campfire, complete with a spit over it. I take in the scene with a complete lack of comprehension, a sort of nagging persistence in my head that I just can't identify. Then, it hits me.  
  
[_. . .Sheik?_]  
  
Did I fall asleep?  
  
Slowly, carefully, I prop myself up on my elbow, grimacing as a shock of pain races through my wounds. It's over soon enough, and I take a better, more aware look at what's going on.  
  
There's no sign of him, anywhere. The food is still cooking, unattended (smelling a bit strange because it's beginning to burn) and my sword and everything is still laying where it usually is. Even Sheik's stuff is there, all except for his daggers, which he usually carries with him, everywhere.  
  
With a rather pathetic groan (if I weren't so worried, I'd be ashamed) I sit up, vainly holding my stomach with one hand as if that will stop the pain,  
  
Sheik's right. . .I shouldn't be walking right now. . .  
  
This site before me is just too peaceful, and that coupled with that nagging paranoia in the back of my head is just forcing me to my feet. If Sheik was leaving for whatever reason, then why would he leave the food to burn? Wouldn't he have woken me up to tell me?  
  
From sitting I try to go to standing, but with no luck. My legs keep wanting to cripple right out from underneath me. They shake and shiver and be just completely unreliable, and so when I fall back on my ass for the second Time, I reach over slowly, and grab the hilt of the Hellplague.  
  
At the touch a powerful surge of warmth runs through me, soothing the ache I didn't even know was in my hands at the Time. A shudder of pleasure ripples through me, and close my eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling.  
  
When I am ready (feeling more than slightly ashamed of my actions) I raise myself on to my feet again, using the sword as a kind of crutch. My knees still shake, but with this support at least I'll be able to hobble around somewhat properly.  
  
The first thing I do is move over to where Sheik was sitting the last Time I saw him, and I check the ground. . .Footprints of where he helped me to and from the pond are easy to see, as was where he was sitting. . .Nothing seems out of the ordinary-  
  
Wait. . .There's a set of tracks running past, the opposite direction of the pond. . .And Sheik's footprints, too, head in that direction. With an ever increasing frown, I follow, not liking the feeling of the dread building up in my gut. . .  
  
From what I can tell (and I was never an expert at tracking) whoever made these prints was running, and fast. . .As was Sheik. I wonder, was he chasing this figure, or. . .  
  
Was he being chased?  
  
I look up, and continue to follow the tracks, angry at myself when I feel the ache begin to settle into my chest, and the sapping of energy from my legs. I feel so weak. . .And yet. . .Maybe Sheik needs my help.  
  
[_And you won't be there for him._]  
  
The bushes block my path, but I push my way through - I won't let Sheik down - into a clearing. It is quiet here, serene, almost, warm and not hot. The sun barely shines here, only coming down in slender shafts through the trees above. The smell of tropical flowers and a sea breeze floats through the air, making this place a paradise.  
  
I would enjoy it, maybe, if it weren't for the two figures at the far side.  
  
Sheik's standing there, across from a shadowy figure (silhouetted to my eyes except for the gleam of his sword) his body in a battle stance. He looks ready to spring at his opponent, ready for the strike-  
  
Except. . .Why doesn't he have his daggers out?  
  
I frown slightly in contemplation, wondering to myself why Sheik would be unarmed, unless-!  
  
I glance over to my right, and feel my heart sink into my stomach when the gleam of metal glints back at me from under a tree.  
  
I consider moving toward Sheik's weapons and giving them back to him, but his lack of movement has really caught my attention. I stay still feeling oddly stuck to my spot, and watch carefully.  
  
One of my friend's hands lowers down to his stomach, which he grasps tightly, and then with a strained groan, he falls over, on to the ground.  
  
"SHEIK!"  
  
He doesn't even acknowledge me, and I stare, watching. . .He manages to sit back up, facing away from me. . .Staring at that guy on the other side of the clearing. . .  
  
The figure suddenly steps forward, and I feel like I have seen him somewhere before. . .  
  
[_Lost. . .Lost in a field of the dead, under stormy skies-_]  
  
SHIT!  
  
But. . .But. . .When?  
  
I know I have seen him somewhere before, but where. . .My head hurts simply trying to think about it, as my mind seems almost blank on the subject - except I know that I have seen him before. No matter what, he is definitely a gruesome sight, and the simple fact that he is walking proves to me that he is obviously a demon, or at least an undead.  
  
His eye hangs out onto his cheek, and I can see that various parts of his face and body are decaying away. . .His pale grey blond hair is held nearly straight up by use of a bandanna around his forehead, his skin a sickly shade of death. . .  
  
His clothes and sword seem almost military style, ripped and torn, revealing wounds that no one could have survived.  
  
Damnit. . .This is not good. . .I'm in no condition to fight. . .  
  
His face lights up in a twisted grin, a evil sneer on the living dead, and he takes another step forward, his smile never fading.  
  
"_So,_" he rasps, "_We meet at last. . .Face to face. . ._" He takes another step forward, moving toward where the injured Sheik lay, and glances down at my friend, "_He is strong, Hero. . .He's been trying to shield you. . .He has failed._" The thing's arm races down at a speed that I can barely comprehend, and grabs Sheik by the collar, lifting him up and in front of this stranger, using Sheik almost like a human shield.  
  
"_Little does he know, Hero,_" I find both the word and this thing's voice grating my ears painfully, and I raise a hand to shelter at least one of them, "_Little does he know. . .Little does he - DON'T YOU DARE TAKE ANOTHER STEP!_" He shouts, just as I began shuffling forward. He shifts Sheik's near motionless body in his arms, placing the sword next to his throat, "_DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!_"  
  
"Please," I beg, looking at Sheik's down turned face, but all I can see is the bloody bangs blocking my view, "_Please_, let him go. . ."  
  
"_No can do, Hero,_" The thing sneers, "_He's getting in the way. . .He's gotta go._"  
  
"What? _Why_ are you doing this?!" I cry out, my own voice rasping slightly as I notice that blade move closer to Sheik's neck. I wish he would look up, at least see me. . .See that I'm trying. It can't be all my fault. . .  
  
Can it?  
  
"_Because you enjoy it, Hero! Admit. . .All this bloodshed excites you, doesn't it?_" The stranger raises the sword from Sheik's throat, licking the blood that already rests on the sword. I notice with dismay a tiny rivulet that drips down the side of Sheik's throat. . .His cowl is nowhere to be seen.  
  
"You. . .You. . .SHEIK!"  
  
"_Look, Hero,_" the thing says, but I'm not paying attention. Sheik's finally raised his gaze to mine, and I see the horrified look on his face, "_See what you've become? You better get comfortable, Hero,_" I stare at Sheik, appalled as I stare at his one missing eye, the socket overflowing in a see of blood, "_The show's only just starting-_" The sword is brought up in one swift, violent motion, and I watch as Sheik's head snaps back, his throat a bloody mess, dripping down allover everything.  
  
The thing let's go of Sheik's body, which stumbles, once, the blood spraying up in brilliant arcs of crimson, and without warning my friend suddenly falls, face first into the ground. That thing has not moved, is still standing there, his sword raised.  
  
"_-And it isn't going to end. Ever._"

_-----------_  
  
"_SHEIK_!" the sudden scream takes me by surprise, but before I know it, I'm by his side and he's still screaming, short on breath and Goddesses are his eyes. . .? His he. . .crying?  
  
"Link, Link. . .It's alright. . ._Calm down_. . ." I say, trying to soothe him, staring back at his glassy eyes with a comforting look in mine. . .It scares me how lifeless they are.  
  
"Sheik! Sheik. . ." He's mumbling incoherently, saying my name over and over as he grips my uniform tightly. His eyes are still blank, unfocused, full of fear, and place my own hands on his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down, prove to him I'm there.  
  
"Link, it's okay. . .I'm here." His fevered whispers become slower, quieter, and I find myself glad that he is relaxing. . .his muscles are loosening and he is slowly going limp in my arms-  
  
". . .Sheik?" he whispers, his voice almost raspy, and I feel a slight tinge of relief. His fingers are slowly letting go of my uniform, and I raise one hand, lowering my cowl and smiling at him.  
  
"Yeah. It's me. . ."  
  
"But. . .B-but but you. . .you d-died. . ." I am taken aback by his strong emotions. Does he really care this much if I stay alive, and with him.  
  
"No one's going to die, Link. . .Get some sleep." His skin is cold and clammy, and I quickly sweep one hand across his head. It's cold. . .He doesn't have a fever, so what the Hell?  
  
"You're. . .You're alive?" he asks, scared beyond all reason, "Y-your not going to leave me?"  
  
"No," I shake my head, "I won't leave you."  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I-I'm so sorry. . ." his eyes are closed and he is shaking his head negatively, "I-I didn't mean-"  
  
"Shush. . .It's alright. . .Just get some sleep."  
  
"But Sh-Sheik. . ."  
  
"It's okay. I'm not leaving. . ."  
  
"please don't leave me alone-"  
  
"I promise. . .I won't leave."  
  
"I'm so sorry. . ." His eyes drift shut, and he's suddenly asleep in my arms. Carefully, I lie him down against his bed of leaves, making sure that he's comfortable. I watch his chest rise and fall, slower and deeper than before, more relaxed.  
  
Well. . .I guess he won't be eating anything tonight.  
  
The smell of burnt sea food wafts through the air.

_-----------_  
  
_A/N : Short, yes I know, but. . .Had I continued on it would have sounded stupid. :P Anyways, that doesn't matter. What does is that I got a chapter completed on time (WHOO!) XD  
  
Well, I can't think of much to say. . .Next chapter will be up by next week for sure, and it won't be too long before Link and Sheik get off of this stupid island. Yeah. . .And then some interesting things start happening (slowly getting close to the end of act one!)  
  
Feel free to leave a review. it would be greatly appreciated. _


	49. Chapter XLVIII Sheikan Training

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter XLVIII - Sheikan Training_  
  
----------  
  
"Link?" I ask, looking over at him and taking in his vacant gaze. Ever since that evening where he suddenly burst into screams in the middle of his sleep, Link hasn't quite been himself. Most times, I consider myself lucky if I can make eye contact.  
  
And I'm supposed to be the evasive one.  
  
His eyes (almost appearing to be glazed over) move slowly, almost tiredly in my direction, eventually meeting mine. He only seems to be half paying attention, and it's really starting to bother me. . .He's hardly said two words in two days.  
  
Probably what's bothering me the most about this, is how much it is reminding me of that time in those caves. . .Just before he got that damned sword of his.  
  
". . .hm?" The sound is small, almost completely quiet. I barely hear it.  
  
"I was, uh, thinking that it's time for us to move on again. . .It's been about four days since we arrived here, and I think that you are healed well enough that as long as you don't do anything stupid, you should be fine."  
  
Now normally, Link would be a) over joyous to hear that we're on the move again, and that I am letting him walk around on his own, or b) angry with me for calling him stupid, but this Link, he's different. . .There's a slight nod of his head, and that's all. . .Like he's too busy thinking on something else. . .  
  
"And, I thought that it would, well. . ." I continue on, slightly thrown off due to his lack of speech. . .I'm still not used to it, "I think I know this island. . .And if I'm right, theres a area to the north where we could make to the mainland easily."  
  
Again, Link only nods. . .The silence is intimidating, and strangely lonely.  
  
"So. . .It wouldn't take much to swim across, you know?" I shrug, trying to lighten up this one sided conversation.  
  
It doesn't work.  
  
Finally, with a sigh, I lean over to where Link is sitting, ignoring the bite of stones into my legs, and place my hand on his shoulder, "Hey, Link, you _there_?" His eyes meet mine, but he is still mostly staring into space, barely acknowledging my presence. I scowl ever so slightly, "Stop thinking so much, it doesn't suit you." No change.  
  
My scowl turns into a frown, and I glance down quickly at the ground, trying to make up my mind. I run through my thoughts to try to get them all straight in my head, and at last I come to a decision. My hand moves with lightning speed, and Link has no chance to stop it.  
  
My hand slaps hard against his flesh, and I stare up into his eyes, which have suddenly focused so sharply. He slowly raises a hand to his cheek, unbelieving, and rubs the red skin there.  
  
"_W-what_ was that for?"  
  
"For not paying attention to me. . .What the _Hell_ is wrong with you, anyway?"  
  
He cocks his head slightly, obviously not understanding the question. I sigh, and rub the bridge of my nose.  
  
"You've been zoning out pretty bad, Link. . .What's wrong?"  
  
". . .Nothing."  
  
"Does it have something to do with that dream you had?"  
  
". . .Not at all."  
  
"Link-"  
  
"-I'm fine."  
  
"Really? Then what did I suggest we do?" A smirk appears on my face.  
  
"I. . .Uh. . .Um. . ."  
  
"What is the last thing you remember me saying?"  
  
"Something about. . .North?" Goddesses, he doesn't even look sure about that. . .My smirk turns into a frown, and concern flares through me again.  
  
". . .Why have you been zoning out, Link?"  
  
----------  
  
"Why have you been zoning out, Link?" Sheik asks, and I find myself struggling for a plausible answer. At my side Malon laughs hysterically, the sound of her voice nearly blocking out Sheik's words. In my head, I can feel that blank expanse in which that new voice comes from. . .When it does not speak with me, it almost seems like there is a hole in my head and everything is being sucked into it.  
  
"I. . .Okay, maybe it _was_ that dream," I lie. . .Yes, the idea of Sheik dying has been haunting my dreams and making it hard for me to sleep, but that's not what's been bothering me.  
  
_"Going to tell him the truth?_" Malon hisses with laughter laden in her voice, _"He won't believe you. He'd leave you here, alone." _She smiles maliciously, _"You wouldn't want that, now would you?"_ She sneers. I wish to shoot her a glare, but I can't, as Sheik would undoubtedly see. Malon's been getting awfully loud as of late, and she's been coming by a Hell of a lot more often, and it's taking every little ounce of my willpower not to turn around and scream at her to shut the fuck up. . .  
  
. . .  
  
Oh, so tempting. . .  
  
"The dream. . .? What did you dream about, Link?"  
  
I shake my head, turning my gaze to the ground, "It. . .Nothing. . .I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Link, please. . ." Sheik sighs, "It. . .It had something to do with me dying, didn't it?"  
  
I frown, wondering if I told him that. . .I don't recall doing so, ". . .And _if_ it did?" I find it impossible to out and out lie to him, and I desperately curse my honesty.  
  
"Link, _don't_ do this. . .Something is obviously bugging you. Now out with it."  
  
". . .Stop being so motherly, _it_ doesn't suit _you_." I stand up slowly, heading toward the dark bush that surrounds our little campsite, ". . .I'm going to go take a walk, don't wait up." I walk into the thick foliage before Sheik can even utter a word. It is nice, quiet, peaceful out here.  
  
. . .Unfortunately, Malon has decided to tag along.  
  
_"Wow, nice exit there, if anything you're heading toward destroying your friendship with him,"_ she speaks from behind me, her voice almost rippling in my head,_ "Such a nice thing to do! Worry him and worry him and then finally prove to him your a few marbles short and-"  
_  
"Shut up, Malon," I growl, trying to keep my voice down.  
  
_"But why should I Link, really? Why? What difference would it make? You're completely off your rocker and now your going to try and blame it all on little old me? It's not my fault-"  
_  
"I said shut up." Every word she says blocks everything else out, and all I can hear is her voice. . .I begin bitting my lip.  
  
_"It's not my fault that you've failed at every little thing you do. You couldn't save anyone, Link. You didn't - don't - deserve to be a hero. You deserve no more than what has happened to those around you. Death. Why Tyrael didn't kill you right away still makes me wonder. . ."  
  
_". . .Malon-"  
  
_"Can't even protect yourself. What a useless fool. Weakling. Stupid, ignorant-"  
_  
"Malon-"  
  
_"-All your friends died because of you, you stupid son of a bit-"_  
  
"I SAID, _SHUT UP_!"  
  
As I kneel there, on the ground, cradling my head, silence for the first Time in days returns to me and I wonder if it would really be so bad, being alone.  
  
----------  
  
"Alright, Link," Sheik says to me, his voice rather laid back, despite my disappearance last night. I wonder if he is mad at me. . . "Here's where we can cross. . .It's not too deep, though you definitely have to swim in some areas." I nod, and look around for what is probably the first Time since Sheik dragged me to this beach.  
  
The sand is completely white and soft, almost like a powder in it's fineness. The waves lap up slowly, dragging that sand back down into its depths and creating the gentle roar that echoes across the entire island. With each wave comes the smell of the sea breeze, which is gentle and soft, caressing.  
  
The sky is a brilliant blue, holding few clouds and a bright sun.  
  
_"Nice day out, isn't it?"_ Malon says, suddenly fading into view beside me. She stretches her arms out to the wind, her eyes closed and joy on her face, _"Too bad I can't feel it,"_ she continues, dropping her arms almost lazily. They swing by her side for a moment, and suddenly, she turns to look at me. I continue to face Sheik, and simply glance at her from Time to Time out of the corner of my eyes, _"You made sure of_ that_, Link."_  
  
"-you're ready. Just let me-"  
  
_"Ironic, isn't it?"_ Malon begins, blocking out my conversation with Sheik from my ears, _"The thing you loved most,"  
_  
"-other side is-"  
  
_"-is the thing-"_  
  
"-it's really small, actu-"  
  
_"-you yourself destroyed."_  
  
[_I didn't destroy anything,_] I say to Malon, [_It wasn't my fault I got caught in some portal._]  
  
"Link?" Sheik suddenly steps forward, waving a hand in my face, and I find my attention suddenly focusing on him, "You're spacing out again."  
  
"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"  
  
Suddenly, Malon erupts in shrill laughter, and I wince, raising a hand to my head to try to block it out.  
  
[_Shut up shut up SHUT UP!_]  
  
"Link?"  
  
I try to smile, "I'm fine. Really."  
  
_"Truly?"_ I can feel Malon grin beside me, _"You still believe that?"  
_  
"No you're not," Sheik mutters, moving toward me, raising one hand and placing it on my forehead, "You're acting strange-"  
  
_"Strange? Strange? You're always acting strange-"_  
  
"A bit tired is all," I reply as Sheik steps back, worry forming in his eyes.  
  
"I can take your-"  
  
_"You failed you failed you _failed_!"_  
  
"-tonight, if you want."  
  
I blink, "What? Sorry? What did you say?"  
  
Sheik shrugs, "I can take your shift tonight, if you want. Watch for you, if you're tired."  
  
"No, that's not necessary-"  
  
_"It's all your fault, Link! Everyone's death is your fault! That Deku Tree from your past, letting Ganon into the Sacred Realm to steal the Triforce, Amplisa. . .Everyone's death. . .You couldn't even make your seal strong enough to hold Ganondorf! How are you going to protect Sheik? You know he's next and-"  
_  
_Oh,_ shut up_, Malon. Your presence is definitely loved by no one._  
  
The voice spoke, and suddenly everything is quiet. . .Sheik's staring at me funny, still worried, but Malon crosses her arms, annoyed, before disappearing. My head is miraculously clear, no arguing Malon interrupting my thoughts. . .It almost feels like my mind is my own again.  
  
[_Who are you?_] I ask, but am not completely when there is no answer. I frown lightly, trying to keep my emotions from appearing on my face.  
  
Sheik, having no idea about me and my inner conversations (here's hoping, anyway) studies me curiously. I repress a shudder at the thought, ". . .You _sure_ your alright?"  
  
I think about it for a moment, listening to the near silence around me. . .All I can hear is the ocean, the wind, and the far off sound of birds. . .  
  
"Sheik, I've _never_ been better."  
  
Slowly, a smile forms (I can't see his mouth but it's obvious in his eyes) on his face, ". . .Good to hear. Come on, might as well get going. . .You sure your up to it? Are your wounds still bothering you?"  
  
Truth be told, I nearly forgot about my injuries. The cold in my hands and the consistent pestering by Malon has made me too busy to even notice such things. Mentally I check all of my wounds, testing the muscles there. They seem to be just fine, a bit sore yet but not bad enough that a bit of swimming will tear them open again.  
  
"No, I'm good. Let's just get moving." I take a few steps past Sheik, and into the water. I don't bother removing any clothing, as it's just going to get wet anyway and there's nothing I can do to prevent that. It'll dry.  
  
A good twenty feet out and immediately the depth increases to the point where I am forced to swim, rather than walk. I tread the water carefully, feeling rather awkward as memories of the many Times I've almost drowned race through my head. I turn, and face Sheik.  
  
He's staring at me with a frown on his face, and slowly, he approaches me, until he stands right at the edge of that drop. I am only about five feet away from him, and I can see that he's frowning while he stands in the waist deep (for him anyway) warm water.  
  
"Link,_ what_ are you doing?"  
  
"What _does_ it_ look_ like?" I sputter as my head nearly goes under, and I force some extra energy into my limbs to rise again, "I'm swimming."  
  
"That's not swimming, that's _drowning_ with style," he mutters, shaking his head, "Here, watch how and learn." He uncrosses his arm, and pulls down his cowl, before preforming a graceful dive into the water, disappearing below the gentle waves without so much as even a splash.  
  
I watch and wait for him to surface, but he does not come. . .Suddenly, there is a movement behind me and a gasp and I turn to face my friend, who is staring back at me with a smile in his eyes and on his face.  
  
"See, that's how you swim."  
  
"See? How was I supposed to see? You were under the water the _entire_ Time!"  
  
Sheik simply sighs and shakes his head, but there is still a smile on his face.  
  
"_Fine_ then, I'll _teach_ you how to swim."  
  
----------  
  
We finished crossing the water around the late afternoon, and decided to spend the evening drying. My pants (along with Sheik's uniform and cowl) hung over a dead branch near the fire the Sheikah made, and the two of us had, well. . .  
  
Nothing on.  
  
[_First I wake up in his arms. . .Now this? Is someone trying to tell me something?_]  
  
Malon is sitting beside me (luckily, she's being rather quiet today), a smirk on her face, staring at me.  
  
_"You are sure cute when you're embarrassed."_  
  
I mentally snarl at her to shut up, but she just giggles before fading away. I thank the Goddesses that she's not in a very annoying mood, and I turn toward Sheik (making sure not to look at anything that would offend him).  
  
Even if I wanted to look at anything of his that is private, I wouldn't be able to. He's sitting cross legged, and is covering himself quite well. He isn't looking at me, but instead his gaze is deep into the fire, watching the flames dance.  
  
"Sheik?" I ask, and immediately, his attention turns toward me, "Where next?"  
  
"Well, we're nearing the town of Gazia. It's a cliff-side village, and we should be there in about another three days. . .I think we should head there, then through the caves to the north-west."  
  
"So. . .This is really your home? This world, I mean."  
  
Sheik looks up at the sky for a moment, then down and around to the plains that surround us, "Yeah. . .I don't live around here, anywhere, but if we head to the west. . ."  
  
"What's it like? Your home?"  
  
"It's. . .small, for one thing. . .Deep in a forest. Hidden. . .Sheikah village. It was rather boring there, and the people were simple minded fools. . .So I moved away a few years back."  
  
"Really?" I ask, imaging the place in my head, ". . .What about family?"  
  
". . .I'm an orphan."  
  
"Oh. Sorry."  
  
"Why are you sorry? I'm glad I don't have a family.If I was related to any of those stupid. . ." he sighs, heavily, "Now it's my turn to apologize. I get a little carried away when I think about that place."  
  
"I see. . .Me too."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm an orphan too. . .I think I might have told you that already."  
  
". . .Maybe."  
  
"Sheik?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Do you remember your parents?. . .Your mother?"  
  
"A little. . ."  
  
"What was she like?"  
  
". . .I don't know. . .I _think_ she was a taller woman, blonde hair. I can't remember. . .I think she was nice. I can't remember my father, though."  
  
". . ."  
  
"Link? What about you? Do you remember your parents?"  
  
"Not at all. It's. . .It's almost like they didn't exist. . ."  
  
". . .Link?"  
  
"Really. . .I didn't even realize that it was strange that I had no mother or father. . .Not until I was, what? Seventeen?"  
  
"Well, how old are you now? I mean, without all the time you spent sealed."  
  
I scratch my head, ". . .Um, twenty, I think. It's been a while."  
  
"I bet. . .Hey, what are you going to do after this?"  
  
"Well, I was thinking of getting some sleep-"  
  
"No, I mean, what are you doing next? Where are you going to go?"  
  
That gets me good, and it takes me a minute to think on a answer.  
  
"I don't know. . .What are you doing?"  
  
"I think that I'll head home. . .Just see how things are holding up. I got somebody that I have to go and visit, anyway."  
  
". . .I think that I'll go with you. . .I'll decide what to do later."  
  
"I'd. . .I'd like that."  
  
"'Night."  
  
"Going to bed? Alright then. Goodnight."  
  
----------  
  
When I wake up, I find a warmth in my arms that I find myself slowly becoming familiar with. I crack open one eye to see Link laying there, in the crook of my arm, his bare back against my chest.   
  
We both redressed before falling asleep last night, and at first Link tried to sleep off on his own, a few feet away from me. It didn't last long, as we still have no blankets, and Link still doesn't have a shirt. . .Soon enough, I woke to find him lightly shaking me, shivering in the midnight wind, asking if he could sleep beside me.  
  
I didn't refuse. I was a bit cold myself.  
  
I shift slightly where I lay, and though Link doesn't wake up, he does moan lightly, pushing himself back against me. I sigh, and place my hand on his shoulder. He's warm now, much more so that he was last night, and so I slowly pull away, making sure not to wake him up.  
  
My arm slides out from underneath his head, and at the lack of support, he subconsciously places his own arms there instead. I sigh lightly, and get up, brushing the dust and dirt off of my uniform.  
  
We really need to get some supplies.  
  
There's a nagging feeling in my stomach, and when it growls it suddenly comes to me that I'm hungry. . .Link probably will be too, after the swim we had yesterday. But where can I get something. . .?  
  
I take a glance around. This is a far cry from the island we were on before. Though we really aren't all that far from the tropical little paradise, the temperature has dropped a few degrees, and the landscape is not nearly as pretty. Things are more dry, and a lot less lush. It's mostly just straight plains that get decidedly gloomier the farther north you go. I stretch and yawn, trying to remain quiet so that I don't wake Link up.  
  
I probably could catch something. . .Shouldn't be too hard. . .But could I leave Link alone? A lot of strange things have been happening recently, and would it be smart to leave him alone, but the remains of a still smoking campfire while he sleeps in the middle of the plains?  
  
Then again. . .I shouldn't be too far from that river. . .The Sepol, I think it's called. . .It should only be, what? A fifteen minute walk, if I remember correctly. I could catch some fish, and maybe be back in an hour, if I'm lucky. . .I could probably also find some herbs, too.  
  
But Link. . .If he were to wake up, he'd probably wonder where I am. . .I don't want to worry him.  
  
Thinking quickly, I pick up a dead stick that lay close to the sleeping Hero, and I begin to scratch a message into the dirt beneath.  
  
----------  
  
Okay. . .Out of every possible thing that could have happened. . .He had to leave me a note in goddamn Hylain!?  
  
[_Maybe it says. . .Be right back?_]  
  
[_Could say something like 'See ya, loser'._]  
  
[_. . .'I'm under attack?'_]  
  
I groan, and grab my head in my hands. Of all the. . .Whatever he's doing, couldn't he just have waited? I don't know if I should wait for him, run for my life, or follow him. . .  
  
_"Waiting would probably be the best option,"_ Malon says from behind me, and I whirl around just in Time to see her, dress blowing elegantly in the wind, cross over the burning coals of last night's fire. There's a smile on her face that I don't quite trust, and I'm afraid it is just going to be another one of those days.  
  
_"Those days?"_ She asks, looking curious - too curious, and I bet she knows that I realize it's an act, _"Oh, Link. What _do_ you _mean_ by 'those days'?"_  
  
"You know perfectly well what I mean, Malon," I growl, eyes narrowing, "Why don't you go and bother someone else for a while. I'm tired."  
  
_"You just woke up,"_ She replies. I grind my teeth together.  
  
"I was _trying_ to be a gentleman."  
  
_"You? A gentleman? Don't make me laugh-"_  
  
"I _wish_ you would just stop breathing entirely."  
  
_"-if you were a gentleman, then you would have returned my horse to me, a long time ago. Hmm, I wonder how the poor Epona is doing now. . ."  
_  
"You should know, you were the one who distracted me when the Wolfos-"  
  
_"Humph. Well, if you can get distracted in battle so easily, then you deserve to die."  
_  
"But_ I_ didn't die, your horse _did_, remember?"  
  
_"Well, you still deserve to."_ She crosses her arms and turns her gaze to the side, angry. I sigh.  
  
"You're just upset you lost that one. Admit it." Her eyes look back down and meet mine.  
  
_". . .What do you think of the Sheikah? You've been traveling a lot longer with him that I thought you would."  
_  
I shrug, "I like him, so what? He's nice. First real friend that I've had in a long Time."  
  
_"What about Squall and the others?"_  
  
"I miss them, I guess, but they were more worried about themselves, I think. They only helped me because Squall was in danger."  
  
_"Well, Sheik didn't really care much for you before, either. It's only just recently does he even seem to care if you're still breathing, or not."_  
  
"Still, that's more than you care."  
  
A silence falls for a moment, as I digest everything she's said. . .I'm surprised, usually she's annoying and goes on and on about how stupid and ignorant I am, and yet here we're having a somewhat decent conversation. I take a glance at her, watching her sit down, and play with the hem of her dress.  
  
[_Goddesses, Malon, how I _miss_ you. . ._]  
  
_"Hm?"_ She glances up at me, the edge of her dress temporarily forgotten. I shake my head, and look away, staring at the pale blue sky.  
  
_"Nuthin."_  
  
_"Really? I think you're lying, Hero,"_ she says, slyly, and I glare at her.  
  
"I don't lie you-"  
  
"Link? Who are you talking to?"  
  
"Sheik!" I turn around to see him, standing behind me, a bunch of fish held together by a thin branch running through their gills. Instantly I am up on my feet, facing away from Malon, and giving my friend a nervous grin, "Where _have_ you been? I was worried."  
  
He glances down at the fish in his hand, and then back up at me, ". . .I thought that would have been obvious." He gives the fish a good toss, and then skid to a stop by the dead campfire, "'Sides, I left you a note. Didn't you see it?"  
  
"You mean all those scratches in the dirt?" He nods, ". . .Did I ever tell you I can't read Hylain?"  
  
Sheik's hand flies up to his face, and smacks into his forehead.  
  
I grin at his antics, watching in delight as he mumbles to himself - probably in Sheikan, if I know him. I'm glad to see his cowl down for once, pooled around his neck. It is rare to ever see him with it off or down, and I must say that I am happy he's finally beginning to trust me so much.  
  
It feels so good to have a friend, again. . .  
  
". . .You mean to tell me that you _can't_ read, _can't_ jump, can _barely_ run-"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"-just what _kind _of a Sheikah are you?"  
  
". . .Um, _excuse_ me?"  
  
Sheik looks at me, surprised, "You mean. . .You don't know?"  
  
"Don't know _what_?"  
  
He moves forward, indicating various areas of my face, "Your light hair, your slanted eyes, your more slender build. . .? I knew you didn't know much, but still-"  
  
"Sheik, what are you saying?" Why does he always have to talk in riddles?  
  
". . .Link, you obviously have Sheikah blood in you."  
  
"What?!. . .I do not."  
  
"You do, Link. It's obvious."  
  
"No way. My mom was a Hylain-"  
  
"I thought you didn't remember your mother." Sheik crosses his arms and I mentally shake a fist at him and his cockiness.  
  
"Well, the Great Deku Tree told me-"  
  
"Well, whatever, then your father was one. That tree can think whatever it wants. I know a Sheikah when I see one."  
  
I stare at him closely, as if by doing so he'll just give me all the answers, "Then why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"I thought that you had _some_ idea."  
  
"No," I say, raising a hand and placing my gaze on it, ". . .No idea." I flex my fingers, watching each and every muscle movement, barely noticing the silence that has suddenly fallen. Thoughts are racing through my head, trying to remember everything - anything - about my parents.  
  
Nothing comes to mind, besides what the Great Deku Tree told me.  
  
". . .Would you like me to train you?" I glance up at Sheik.  
  
"What?"  
  
He shrugs casually, "Would you like me to train you? I could teach you some moves and stuff, help you move faster and jump higher. Those kind of things. Could help you learn how to read, too. How about it?"  
  
I smile up at him, "Sure. When do we start?"  
  
----------  
  
"Okay, here," I say, stopping beside Link next to a large tree, "Jump to the top of this tree." Link looks up to the very tip top (a good forty feet) and then turns back to me.  
  
"In one jump?"  
  
"In one jump."  
  
"No way! I _can't_ jump _that_ high!"  
  
"Well, try," I say, crossing my arms and trying to take a teaching pose, "If you can't, I'll give you some pointers." He steels his gaze and rubs his hands together. Slowly, he bends his knees, and suddenly, after a deep breath, lunges upward.  
  
He manages to grab a branch about ten feet off the ground, and scrambles to get up on top of it.  
  
"Oh, never mind. . .Get down here." He drops beside me, landing all wrong. . .He didn't hurt himself, granted, but had the fall been high. . .  
  
"You must be nuts to think I can jump that high. . .You're insane!"  
  
I roll my eyes at him, "No. . .You're doing it all wrong-"  
  
"Well, maybe you can show me how, oh _Mighty_ Sheik."  
  
I smile, "Keep bending your knees, but push upward. Try to get more lift. . ."  
  
----------  
  
"Okay, that's enough for today," Link releases a sigh of relief from his position halfway up the twenty foot boulder. It's been three days since I first offered to teach him, and he's slowly making progress. It's about time we continue walking, as by this afternoon we should be able to reach the Town of Gazia. . .  
  
Link lands with a thud beside me, falling into a crouched position but soon toppling over backward on to his ass. He looks up at me with a nervous grin and a chuckle as he scratches the back of his head, but he seems find. I laugh lightly myself at the pitiful sight.  
  
"You're getting better, Link. Keep at it and you'll get it in no time."  
  
"That's what you keep telling me," he says, while rubbing his lower back to soothe the ache, "But I don't see _any_ improvement."  
  
"It takes more than a few days for any improvement to show, Link. Give yourself a week or two and we'll see some improvements then. Anyway, we should start heading out. We can be at Gazia by noon."  
  
"Is it that black thing on the cliffs over there?" Link points, and I follow his gaze. On top of the far away plateau I can see the distinctive shape of the town in the morning light. I look back at him and nod.  
  
"Yep, that's it, now come along. . .We can get you a new shirt there while we're at it." He blushes as he stands up quickly, pointedly avoiding my gaze. I laugh once into the crisp air, and start walking away, keeping my movements slow until I am sure that Link has caught up to me.  
  
I can't help but grin. . .I'm almost home.  
  
----------  
  
_A/N : For anyone who is wondering, Gazia (sorry bout the bad name, btw) is not Sheik's home. . .He lives in a different section of the continent. This chapter is a bit longer than the rest, and I hope that pleases you. The next few chapters (few, in the very least) should be of the longer variety. I would have continued on here, but it was getting rather. . .Well, it would have been an awkward time skip.  
  
I thinks thats everything (Thanks to Angie for the 300th review) I really appreciate all your support._

_Please review!_


	50. Chapter XLIX Blood Lusts

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter XLIX - Blood Lusts_  
  
----------  
  
I can feel my cheeks stain a light shade of pink as we enter the somewhat busy town. It's large, and I don't think we're anywhere near the market, but still there are groups of people weaving in and out of the crowds, ranging anywhere from young children, to even a few spry old ladies.  
  
The buildings are nice enough, but not much better than you'd see in any other town. . .Most of them are rather beaten up and in desperate need of repair, so really, this village seems much like any other. The ground has been stomped into a path long ago, and with the buildings so cramped, there is very little vegetation throughout the town.  
  
The people are for the most part dressed in the usual poor peasant's rags, with the exception of the occasional richer person, who instead of wearing ripped and frayed cloth, finds more comfort in their fancy robes and suits, their bright colors offsetting the dreary background.  
  
The sky is a weak overcast grey today, and that coupled with the flat plains gives the whole area a rather depressing look, which is not helped by how most of the people and buildings look. I try to shrug it off, but it continues to gnaw at my mind just how dead this part of this world seems.  
  
Hmm. . .Reminds me of Western Sanctuary.  
  
Anyway, so I walk into the town, several steps behind Sheik. He's got his guise back on again, and I must say that I am disappointed. . .I rather enjoyed seeing him like that, and it was much more enjoyable to talk to his face rather than a piece of cloth. His eyes are surprisingly cold and emotionless, and I am immediately reminded of when I first met him. . .  
  
He's really changed.  
  
The thought puts a smile on my face, but that soon disappears, and is replaced with the blush once more.  
  
Everyone is _staring_ at me. . .  
  
I glance around nervously, taking in all the stares I am receiving. Everyone who passes by us at the very least gives me a glance, and I scratch the back of my head nervously.  
  
"Sheik," I whisper, hoping to grab his attention, "_Why_ are they _staring_ at me?"  
  
Despite my words almost being completely blocked out by the roar of the crowds, Sheik hears and turns around, facing me as he comes to a stop. He studies the situation himself, and then for the very first Sheik-like manner since we arrived, he gives a hearty laugh, and I can't help but smile.  
  
He turns around again, shaking his head with a gleam in his eyes as we continue forward. He may not have answered my question, but I think I realize now why they are staring at me so.  
  
The elders seem to be appalled by my lack of shirt. . .And the younger ones seem to, well, be interested? The females, anyway. The guys seem to be rather angry, and I can't help but wonder if I've stirred up some kind of bee's nest without even realizing it. . .The children glance at me, too, but I think it's more out of simple curiosity than anything else.  
  
I have a feeling these people don't get too many visitors.  
  
Sheik falls back a few steps, until he is walking right beside me, his gaze still stuck on all the buildings that pass us by, "Ah, ole Gazia," he begins, taking a deep breath, "It's been a while. . ." I see that gleam light up in his eyes, and he glances over toward me, "But I think I still know just the right place to get you some new clothes."  
  
"Well, that's good news. . .It's been rather chilly recently, without my shirt, and yet I've already burned," I touch delicately the now browning skin (it was a violent red before) and wince as there is still some pain there.  
  
"No harm in a tan, Link," Sheik replies to my movements, "You could almost pass for a full Sheikah, now."  
  
A Sheikah?. . .I can still hardly believe it, but. . .I guess Sheik is right. The things he pointed out to me, its surprising I didn't notice before. . .The slanted eyes (though not much, are still noticeable), the blond hair. . .my more lithe stature. . .I wonder, did anyone else notice? Back when I was a child? Did maybe that Sage of the Shadows-  
  
[_Impa._]  
  
-did she ever look at me and think that maybe I was a Sheikah? . . .I wonder what would have happened. . .Had she took me in. . .  
  
Well, there's no point thinking about that now, and telling by the look on Sheik's face, he's starting to get worried again. He always does, when I start going quiet. I guess he's afraid of me zoning out again, though I don't know why it bothers him so much.  
  
[_Aw, does maybe the little Sheikah care?_]  
  
I nearly laugh at the thought of a motherly Sheik. . .I don't know why, but it just seems so, so . . .not Sheik. The idea puts a grin on my face, and I find that for the moment, my worries are fading.  
  
I'm actually rather enjoying all this.  
  
Out of the top floors of the town's taller buildings run lines and lines of clothes lines, on which are shirts and pants and whatnot blowing in the wind like flags. Occasionally, some lady will pop her head out of her window, complete with torn and dirtied peasant's clothing, to yell at some person on the street below. I see some unlucky guy (one of the few nice dressed) get hit with the contents of some bucket from some home. He looks up and shakes a fist at the unseen assailant, but walks away, his hands in his pockets, soaked.  
  
"Link?" Sheik asks, catching my attention, "We're here." I look to see that we are standing in front of a small shop, probably one of the few on this side of town. It's windows are dirty and dusty, and it seems to be so dark inside. . .Something makes me wonder if they're still open.  
  
Sheik walks up to the door, and pushes it in, his hands pressing only briefly on the metal handle before it opens easily, almost noiselessly. I follow him soon after, staring for a brief moment at the large show windows that line the sides of the door.  
  
Inside is just as dark as it had looked from the outside, and I find my eyes straining to see in the dark. Sheik doesn't seem to be much better of (if any better at all) but it seems he knows his way through here, so he takes the lead, and I follow.  
  
It's definitely not a big store, but it is a little larger than it appeared to be from the outside. It takes us very little Time to make it from the door to the desk, but on the way I see racks and racks and shelves of clothes, all buried beneath a layer of dust. I wonder if maybe Sheik made a mistake coming here, but we're already at the desk, and there's no way I can even hint at us leaving without making it obvious, and rude.  
  
Over the old wooden desk (so old, that it's original color is mostly faded) is slumped an old man, obviously deeply asleep. He's got wiry white curled hair covering the top of his head, and is dressed in older clothes - older, but in better condition than most of what everyone else is wearing. His head is balanced on his arms, face down, one hand hanging over the edge of the desk as he snores. There's a small lamp beside him, near the edge of the desk, and though it is rather tiny, it is giving off a good bit of light.  
  
"Hey, Craig," Sheik says, somewhat quietly, trying to wake the old man up, "Hey. . .HEY CRAIG!"  
  
"Wha - _what?_ Who?" The old man's gaze dances about, until he abruptly notices us, standing here in the shadows. He rubs his tired old green eyes with a wrinkled hand, his other fumbling about on the desk for something. After a few seconds of feeling about, he produces a pair of glasses, which he puts on his face. He squints at us for a long moment before:  
  
"Sheik, my boy, is _that_ you?"   
  
Said Sheikah pulls down his cowl and smiles at the old man as he does a mocking bow, "In the flesh, old man."  
  
"Haha! I_ knew_ you were still alive!" Craig reaches forward and puts one bony arm on Sheik's shoulder, who pulls away after a moment, seeming slightly disturbed by the touch, "Word's gone 'round, and people are saying the Guard got you. But I _knew _they couldn't get ya, Sheik." The man looks over Sheik's shoulder at me, seemingly puzzled, "Who's this?"  
  
"This," Sheik says, moving aside slightly, so that Craig can get a better look at me, "is my friend, Link."  
  
"What? The _Great _Sheik has a friend? Well, times _do_ change!" Craig looks so happy with that smile on his face, I think he's going to burst, ". . .Imagine that. . .Sheik, with a friend. . .Well, Victor is_ sure_ going to be surprised-"  
  
"Speaking of which, Victor and I _have_ to exchange a few _words_. . ." he looks decidedly angry for some reason, almost to the point where I consider taking a step away. Craig speaks and asks the question (though in a much more informed manner) before I can get the chance.  
  
"Was it Victor who-?"  
  
Sheik nods, "As soon as I was done with him in Tonvik he sold me out to the Guard. He owes me, and I specifically _warned_ him-"  
  
Craig shrugs, the gesture alone cutting Sheik off, "Well, it shouldn't be hard to find him. . . Last I heard, he was still around that area. . .But there are more important matters," Craig smiles again, and I am surprised at how well he distracts Sheik from his anger, "Where have you been? You had me worried? Amala has been has been just about bitting everyone's head off-"  
  
"It's. . .It's a long story," Sheik states, and I wonder if he's trying to avoid the subject, "But finally, I'm back. I'm planning on heading home soon. . .Just to check up on the old place."  
  
"Good to hear!"  
  
". . .Craig, do you remember that_ favor_-"  
  
"Oh, I should have _known_ you weren't just visiting an old man. . ."  
  
"My friend here," Sheik gestures toward me, "Needs some new clothes. . .And since I'm a little _strapped _for money-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, fine. What does he need?"  
  
"Well, a shirt for starters. . .Maybe some better pants, too. Good boots, if you got."  
  
"Let's see," Craig begins, hopping out from behind the desk and coming around, studying me closely, "Hmm. . ." He makes me stretch out my arms horizontally, measuring the length and such. I can't see what he's doing, but I can hear him making little thoughtful noises every so often.  
  
"Well, Link sir, you're in luck! You happen to have a nice, general size. . .Most of the stuff in this store will fit ya," Craig says, patting me on the back, "Any preferences?"  
  
"Well. . .Um. . ." I think briefly about the chill in my arms, and how it's become worse without the use of a blanket or a shirt, "Could you. . .I don't know, maybe get me something that's like a two piece? Like a jacket and a shirt, or something?" Sheik gives me a questioning look, and I shrug, trying to hide my sudden uneasiness, "Just so I don't get cold, or anything."  
  
Craig walks around till he's in front of me, his hand cupping his chin in a thoughtful pose, the other crossed against his chest, ". . .What color would you like?"  
  
". . .Something white, I guess. . ." I think about asking for a green, but it strikes me suddenly that I really don't care for green as much as I used to. . .Besides, I'd draw too much attention, and I got the strange suspicion that it's going to be important that I remain hidden.  
  
"What about pants?" Craig asks. I shrug.  
  
"Doesn't really matter, as long as they won't rip too easily.  
  
Craig nods to himself, and then after giving Sheik a brief look, walks away from us, and toward all the racks of clothing near the entrance. We watch as he rifles through piles and piles, an ever growing dust cloud rising around him. I glance over at my friend.  
  
"Who is he?" I whisper.  
  
"An old acquaintance of mine," Sheik responds, quietly, not really paying attention to me, "He helped look after me when I first moved away from my village." I abruptly remember the little bit Sheik told me about the Sheikan town he grew up in, and I'm guessing he means that place. I nod, and turn back toward Craig.  
  
The old man is walking toward me, with a few bundles of clothes thrown over his left arm, and he hands them to me. There's a smile on his face as he speaks, "Try 'em on."  
  
I look down at the bundle, and then at Sheik and Craig, "Um. . .Where can I-?"  
  
"Right here is fine. . .Or, if you want, you can go change behind one of those shelf units there," he points at one of the monstrous structures we passed on the way in. I think about it for a moment, then nod, heading over to one of the structures. I can change in front of Sheik, that's no big deal. . .We're both guys and he's my friend and all, but in front of a stranger?  
  
I shudder at the very _thought_.  
  
---------  
  
I watch Link go behind one of the large shelves, a small smile hidden behind my cowl. Craig gives a light chuckle, and I turn toward him, curious as to what he finds so funny.  
  
"He's an interesting character," the old man states, giving the graying stubble on his cheeks a good scratch, "Very interesting."  
  
"And _what_ do you mean by that?" I make sure to keep my voice low, and can only pray that Craig remembers to do as much as well. . .I'm not sure if Link would care to hear any of this.  
  
"He's got a _lot_ of scars on him Sheik, and some of those I can tell are recent. . .Very recent. Tell me, just who was he fighting?" Old man Craig has a gleam in his eyes that I do not trust. I lie on the spot.  
  
"He had a fight with some guy who gave him problems as a kid."  
  
"Don't lie to me, Sheik-"  
  
"I'm not lying."  
  
"Did he help you escape the Guard?"  
  
"Is that what this is all about?"  
  
"They are looking for you, bad. They really want to find you - they even came here to do it-"  
  
"You didn't sell me out, did you?"  
  
"How could I? Even if I wanted to, I didn't know where you were. . .So, did he help you?"  
  
". . .No. I didn't know him then."  
  
"You're not the kind of person to trust-"  
  
"No, I'm not. . .But I like him. . .He's a good friend-"  
  
"I don't_ like_ this Sheik. . .There's something about him. His. . .His_ eyes_-"  
  
"Relax," I say, as Link finally begins to walk back over to us in his new clothing, "Everything is _fine_."  
  
"Hey, thanks," Link begins, an interesting smile on his face, "It fits perfectly!"  
  
"You're welcome, my boy!" Craig says, sounding glad that Link likes the clothing. I wonder briefly if it is just a ruse, "They're yours, to keep. Enjoy them." Link is looking rather happy, and so I risk a smile, his own joy brushing off on to me.  
  
"Thanks, Craig. I'll see you-"  
  
"Give some words to Victor for me. . .Tell him that we've got to stick together, you know? Whatever he is trying to do is just stupid and will probably get us all killed."  
  
"Trust me, I'll have a nice, long _talk _with him when I find him." Thoughts on just how many different ways there are to kill a man race through my head, and I find myself wondering just which one would be the most painful. . .  
  
"Alright boys, get out of my shop. . .You're scaring away customers!"  
  
---------  
  
I walk alongside Sheik, still smiling after our merry departure from the store. Craig was nice to us, even as we left, and I find myself kinda liking the guy. . .Though, there is something about him which just makes me. . .Well, he just feels kinda. . .off.  
  
At the thought a chill runs through me, and I absently run one of my cold hands up and down my slightly warmer arms for heat. Sheik doesn't seem to notice, and for that I am extremely grateful. I don't want to worry him any more than I have, and I have the strangest feeling that he already knows.  
  
My companion seems a little lost in thought, actually, which could explain why the normally alert Sheikah missed my actions. Not that it's really all that important of a movement, anyway. . .To him, it probably would have looked like I was just scratching my arm. . .Or something.  
  
These new clothes are surprisingly warm, and while I am still far too cold for comfort, I am at least not shivering, which I have been doing far too much of recently. They also look rather good, in my opinion. . .A light, white jacket made of surprisingly good leather falls to just below my waist, on top of a dusty brown grey shirt, with a pair of black pants. Craig didn't get me any boots, but that doesn't matter - mine are still in good condition.  
  
Of course, I still have my belt from before, with the little pouches - one of those containing the ocarina. . .  
  
Sometimes, I wonder. . .  
  
Should I just use the ocarina, and go back?  
  
Back before Termina?  
  
. . .  
  
[_Then what about Sanctuary? You could ignore what happens in Termina, but what about Sanctuary?_]  
  
And then there's Sheik. . .I couldn't just leave a friend behind. . .Not one such as him, and I couldn't take him with me - while I might be able to draw him into the Time Stream, I wouldn't want to tear him away from his home. . .  
  
[_He would _hate_ me. . ._]  
  
And I don't_ want_ him to hate me. . .That's the _last thing_ I want.  
  
Slowly, we make our way out of the poorer parts of town, and into the more middle class. The buildings are nicer, the streets cleaner, the people a little better dressed, but all in all, it's just about the same, really. It isn't long at all before I notice that we must be approaching the richer side of town.  
  
"Where are we going?" I ask, looking at Sheik. He snaps out of his daze and looks at me for a long moment before replying.  
  
"There's an inn on the far side of town. . .I know the owner, and I could probably get us a free night there," Sheik shakes his head, and I can see that he's got the slightest of smiles on under his cowl, ". . .We will need to get some money, however. I can't just keep getting us free rides."  
  
"Well, what could we do for money? There's not much really, is there?"  
  
"Not really. We could always do some underhanded things - thieving, assassinations. . .Things like that aren't too hard, but somehow I don't think you'd-"  
  
"I'm fine with that," I say, to the surprise of us both, "Really, I. . .That'd be fine."  
  
Sheik's smile turns into a bit of a frown, ". . .You sure?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"I always thought you would hate something like that. . ." he states, looking at me closely, "Thought you were more righteous. Wouldn't resort to something that low."  
  
_My foot smashes into the weakened stone of the tomb, causing it to shatter and collapse inward. A wave of dust rises, temporarily coating my throat and causing me to cough roughly. Once the fit has subsided, I lean forward, carefully dipping my hand into the old tomb. My hand wanders down the small stone hole, sliding along the cold rock siding and into the darkness below. A bead of sweat works its way down my brow, my hand shaking as I worry not only about traps but also about my own sanity.   
  
Dressed in tattered clothes, dirty with dirt and blood, hair greasy and unwashed. Sword broken, shield shattered, nearly starved, and robbing the tombs of the dead, I wonder. . .Whatever happened to the Hero of Time?  
_  
"Link?" The voice snaps me from my daze, and I look to see Sheik watching me curiously. The memory strikes me again, briefly, and I shudder.  
  
". . .Just some bad memories. . ." I try to smile, but the grimness of the dirty old tomb in my memory wipes that away before it can even fully appear, "And there are worse things, Sheik. . . I've stooped pretty low sometimes, too."  
  
Sheik's eyes smile, "We're the same then." He seems glad almost, as if the idea has taken some weight off of his shoulders.  
  
"Yeah. . ."  
  
[_Sheik. . .would you hate me, if you knew? If you knew about some of the things I have done. . .?_]  
  
I'm afraid that Sheik is going to ask the question I dread, but before he can, a scream erupts from somewhere ahead. Followed by a dozen others. I give Sheik a look, asking what it could be, but he doesn't look at me, staring straight ahead as if he could see it from here.  
  
Suddenly, he takes off in a run, his hands going for his daggers. Instinctively, my own hands reach up and clasp the hilt of the Hellplague, elated at the sudden surge of warmth that floods through me. I run off after Sheik, the barest of grins tugging at the corners of my mouth.  
  
The people are fleeing in waves, stampeding past us at a speed of which I've never seen before. I have to dodge constantly to avoid being trampled, and I watch - with some amazement - as Sheik jumps on top of a building to run unhindered. I frown briefly, and then follow, starting at a smaller building.  
  
It takes all the speed I can muster, and all the strength in my legs, but somehow, I manage to reach the roof and grab it with my right hand, pulling myself up. . .In seconds, I am on my feet again, somewhat proud of my fifteen foot jump (I'm going to _have_ to tell Sheik about that later, though he probably won't believe me) and running to the next building.  
  
I hesitate at the first roof to roof jump, intimidated by the stretch between these to buildings, but when I look up to see just how far ahead of me Sheik is (why did he leave me in the first place?) I run and leap, landing on my feet hard after an exhilarating moment of freedom and the wind.  
  
I race with all my speed to catch up with Sheik, but he is so much faster then me. . .I frown, and then push myself harder. If there's something going on, then I have to try to catch up. Better late then never.  
  
---------  
  
I race ahead, barely aware of the idea that I'm leaving Link behind. He'll be fine, right? Of _course_ he will. . .  
  
I can't quite explain why I'm so compelled to move. Maybe it's my curiosity, wondering why these people are so frightened. Maybe it's my compassion for this city, and worry for the inhabitants.  
  
Or maybe it's the possibility of a reward!  
  
I move with ease from roof to roof, moving toward the area where all the screaming is coming from. . .Probably some monster got into town and is scaring the people. . .And where there's monsters. . .there's always money.  
  
I've reached the far side of town, another poor district. I come to a sliding stop at the edge of the roof, appalled by what I see on the ground below. . .  
  
_Farore_. . .I've never _seen_ so _much_ blood. . .  
  
Bodies everywhere. . .People are running and screaming but they can't escape, because even though their hunters move in a limping fashion, they still are unbelievably fast, their clawed hands ripping into the flesh and causing a spray of blood high into the air. Still the people scream, and the monsters snarl. . .And somewhere, within the group, I can hear a child crying. . .  
  
The monsters seem to almost mock the human figure, having the body of human males, but yet horribly twisted. One side is almost normal, excluding the curved claws extending from the hands, but the other is a terrible mangled piece of flesh that once my have been human. . .Feet have become clawed, as have hands. . .Spines erupt from the twisted side's shoulder, and knees, and head. One eye is blood red and the pupil is a slit, cat-like - while the other is very human, though twisted with anger and hatred. Skin has an almost melted appearance, as if exposed to high temperatures.  
  
They're all like this. . .Varying a little, but they're all so horrible. . .  
  
Without a second thought, I leap down to the ground - landing in a large puddle of blood - and rush at the nearest enemy. It turns with a growl, leaving the poor Hylain it attacked to flee. Raising one clawed hand, it prepares to strike me, and I move to block, but it's not what I expected.  
  
Bolts of red lightning ark from it's fingers, racing down toward me and hitting me full in the chest with a crackle of hot energy. I cry out in pain, my hands racing toward the injury. . .It feels like a _thousand_ knives, stabbing at once, or someone _ripping_ open my flesh with their bare hands. . .Even through the agony that is ripping through my body, I am surprised that I did not catch fire, or something. . .  
  
The thing again raises its hand to repeat the attack, it's clawed fingers spreading in a foreboding way. I do my best to leap back and out of the way, just as the magic bursts from its fingertips. The lightning stretches, reaches for me, one tendril nearly touching my leg. It misses, instead harmlessly striking through the air with a definite buzzing crack. I land rather shakily, one hand still pressed tight against my wound to try and dim the throbbing. . .I look up at my attacker.  
  
It. . .It looks even worse up close. . .It's human eyes quiet, pleading, insane and remorseful, looking almost sad that it's attacking me, while it's more monstrous side is twisted into a grin of pure malicious evil. It's teeth are sharp and long enough to hang from it's jaw as it smirks at me. . .  
  
My daggers in my hands, I leap from my spot and lunge toward it, watching as it's eyes follow me so easily. At the last second it strikes out, a clawed hand just missing my shoulder as I twist out of the way. As I pass it by, I strike quickly, expertly. Though I have never trained for such a battle - just what _are_ these things anyway? - I am sure that all my training will not be in vain.  
  
The thing hisses in pain, and as I land, sliding to a stop, I twist my hips around, stealing a glance at the beast who has also turned to face me.  
  
Where I have cut, there is a deep gash, following the curvature of the thing's hips. The skin hangs loose, slick with blood, somehow reminding me of those times I hunted the boars in the forests farther north. The thing looks angry, but despite the obvious rip in it's withered flesh, not very injured.  
  
"Oh. . .This _cannot_ be good-"  
  
The thing strikes again, cutting me off and forcing me to jump backward and out of it's range. I wait for the red lightning to strike again before I move, so that I do not stupidly run right back into it's path, but the magic doesn't come.  
  
Instead, it's claw glows a bizarre shade of red, which suddenly rises up from the hand, and disappears into the air, as if it had never existed.  
  
[_What's going on here. . .?_]  
  
Suddenly, to my left, out of the ground erupts a column of flame. I whirl about to face it, momentarily forgetting my misshapen foe (and the other ten or so of them who are still on the rampage). The flames grow a shape to them, something of which I have never seen before, but soon their erratic movements calm down, and I can at last see what my new opponent is.  
  
A long serpentine head rises up from the ground, perfectly made of fire. It's head is lizard like, spines emerging from the back of it's skull. Since it is completely transparent (since it is not solid, only fire), it is hard to make out the details, but what I do see worries me.  
  
Beside the original head, two other smaller ones rise.  
  
Simultaneously, their mouths open wide, and fire races from their gaping jaws, toward me.  
  
[_Oh, shit._]  
  
Maybe I _shouldn't_ have left Link behind.  
  
----------  
  
The line of buildings that I have been using as my own personal transport system suddenly takes a swerve to the left, and I look down into the little clearing in the messy streets.  
  
Oh, this is _definitely_ the place I am looking for.  
  
There is blood all over the streets, pooling in the dips and bumps in the road. Corpses are strewn all about, laying in piles in the road, while other, still living people try to flee, tripping over the dead bodies of their friends.  
  
The monsters are terribly familiar, their hunching forms unmistakable-  
  
[_Damn Council Members. . ._]  
  
-But Ithought that I killed the last of them, when I traveled through the jungles of Kurast.  
  
They are trapping the villagers in the square clearing, several blocking each exit, while the rest cut through the masses of people still alive - still alive and screaming - slaying all the people that get in their way.  
  
Well, all _except_ one.  
  
I glance down to see Sheik, valiantly trying to dodge not only the large fireballs of a nearby hydra, but also the sloppy attacks of the Council Member. . .  
  
[_Oh, how I_ hated _the corrupted Council. . ._]   
  
Sheik seems to be holding his own alright, but who knows when a second Council Member will take notice of him, and then the battle will be really tough. . .For him, at least. I can see that he is surprised at every movements these creatures make, and is also too distracted by their twisted forms. . .  
  
Without a second thought, I leap down, falling into a crouch and narrowly missing a large (and ever expanding) puddle of blood. When I look up, it is instantly obvious that the crowd (who are still trying to get away) are doomed. . .There's only about five of them left now, and that number is dropping before my eyes.  
  
[_HURRY! THEY'LL ALL DIE IF YOU DON'T!_]  
  
[_You're_ already_ to late. It's all your fault._]  
  
[_So much blood, split because of_ you.]  
  
My eyes widen with horror at the thought.  
  
[_Sheik first. . .Save Sheik first. . ._]  
  
I sprint forward, my sword already in my hands and as soon as I near Sheik, I swing. The hit strikes the creature in its shoulder, just seconds before it would have attacked my friend. Now, instead, it shrieks in anger and hatred and pain, recoiling away for a brief moment. I use the Time to turn toward Sheik, who, I can't help but notice, seems relieved to see me here.  
  
"What are these things?" He asks, his voice curious and to some degree frantic. My eyes shift quickly back toward the monster, who has raised it's human-like hand to its wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, and then I look back at Sheik.  
  
"Corrupted Council Members. Demons," I resist the urge to give my head a shake, as I can already feel the lust of battle descending upon my mind for the first Time in a while, "Doesn't matter. Get out of here, now."  
  
"Link, but-"  
  
"_Do _it!"  
  
He gives me a worried and slightly betrayed look, before heeding my words and leaping up in one graceful movement to the top of a nearby building, but still he watches closely. I frown lightly, still concerned about him, but it will do for now. With a swift movement I wasn't aware I was capable of, I turn to face my enemy.  
  
It's let go of it's shoulder now, allowing the weakened limb to simply hang worse that it usually would. Though, if it weren't for the blood dripping down the thing's side, then I wouldn't really be able to tell that its injured at all.  
  
[_Hm, it looks like Sheik got in a good hit to its side._]  
  
Normally, such wounds would be deadly to most monsters, or people, but these things are actual demons. . .Hence the twisted form and aura of power even I can feel. But telling from the look on Sheik's face, well. . .  
  
[_I don't think he's ever seen a demon before._]  
  
These things are tough, really tough. . .Maybe even more so than Ganondorf himself. . .Though, he had black magic aiding him, while these things are servants of the Prime Evils, people twisted and corrupted-  
  
[_If they really are servants of the Prime Evils, then what are they doing here? These_ aren't _the kind of monsters you send to go rampage through a town. . .These things were Mephisto, the Lord of Hatred's_ personal bodyguards.]  
  
[_Maybe a Prime Evil is close by?_]  
  
[_Baal?_]  
  
My thoughts would probably have continued on, if it were not for the fact that now the Council Member is hobbling toward me, ready to attack. Almost instantly, I find my thoughts becoming fewer and fewer as a thick, blank mist descends on my mind. All thoughts, ideas, wishes, and dreams suddenly fade away. . .This is the main reason I sent Sheik away. . .Like this, I'm not sure I _can_ tell friend from foe.  
  
All my thoughts, ideas, wishes, dreams, and memories are suddenly swept away, and replaced with the desire to_ kill_.  
  
Distantly, I can feel my eyes narrow, and I lick my suddenly dry lips.  
  
The misshapen creature is still approaching me, and as it finally nears I twist out of the way in an uncharacteristically graceful maneuver, dodging the sweeping claw as though it was nothing at all. The Council member makes a grunt of anger, already swiping it's claw at me again. This Time I duck under the claw, slide, and slash up it's side as I go by.  
  
It howls as the Hellplague cuts deep into the bone, and right through it, shattering it's already wounded shoulder.  
  
It arches back, away from me in its moment of pain, and I use the second to my advantage. I close the distance between us, and thrust my sword right into it's unprotected, withered stomach.  
  
This Time, it screeches as it writhes on my sword, its face the epitome of agony.  
  
I smile.  
  
This is kinda fun.  
  
I hear heavy footsteps behind me, and I turn, raising my sword. The Council Member's clawed hand strikes hard against my blade, halting its attack. I waste no Time, and use all my strength to force it back. It stumbles and falls, it's disgusting body unable to balance.  
  
I stare at the thing, which is snarling up at me, the human side looking both insane_ and_ mad. I sneer.  
  
It is almost effortless to swipe my blade through the thing's neck. The flesh there offers no resistance, and the body goes limp.  
  
I look up to see that at long last, some guards are starting to come to the rescue of the citizens, though, there's not many of them left. With _any_ luck, they'll survive. . .  
  
Part of me truly doesn'tcare, and actually_ wishes_ them to die, so that I alone can finish the rest of the monsters.  
  
The rest screams at me to stop this, asking what Sheik must be thinking. . .Of how he cannot _possibly_ like a monster such as me-  
  
_Behind you._  
  
I turn, facing the two demons behind me, again raising my sword in a defense motion. The first's claws collide, and the second prepares for a strike of that red lightning that I hate so much. As soon as I see the first light of the attack, I leap to the side, landing lightly on one foot.  
  
The attack completely misses me.  
  
Before I can even come to a stop, I turn and leap forward again, blade ready. The Council Member only manages to get a quick glance at me, before I start hacking away at its side. My first few slices don't go deep, but after that the thing is _crying_ out, a haunting split voice - one side human and one side demon - as the bones become exposed, and broken, all in a haze of blood.  
  
_Die die DIE!_  
  
The voice's words mirror my thoughts exactly, and at long last after a chain of slashing, I spin around, and stab my blade right through the stunned creature's rib cage. There's the cracking of bone, gush of blood, and wheezing of destroyed lungs.  
  
The thing falls in the heap, its body polluting the ground with yet more blood.  
  
Vainly, I try fighting back the smile forming on my face.  
  
The other Council Member has formed one of those _annoying_ Hydra spells - those three headed lizards made of fire - and my frown increases. Just as it's maw opens, I dart off to the side in an attempt to avoid the multiple fireballs.  
  
This works surprisingly well, as I have a fairly large range to move around in, however, that ends when that stupid Council Member gets in my way and blocks off my path. Not wanting those fireballs to come in contact no matter what, I slice the creature as I continue to run, but this one, surprisingly, catches the blade in it's more demonized hand, and leans in, smirking at me.  
  
[_Farore, so little_ Time_ till the next fireball-_]  
  
For the first Time since the haze has fallen on me, I've almost managed to escape that narrow minded thinking, due to the panic which has suddenly crept into my system. Just as I am about to leap to the side, hoping that the thing doesn't follow, a bright shining bit of light flies toward the Council Member, striking it in the neck.  
  
A knife. . .One of those small throwing knives Sheik uses.  
  
The thing hits into the Council Member, and it doesn't even cry in pain, only look in my friend's general direction, but I surge forward again. Just in Time to, as I hear the telltale sound of those fireballs hitting the ground - like a muted explosion, almost.  
  
I surprise the Council Member, causing it to stumble back, but not fall. I grunt at this, in anger, and move forward again, bringing the Hellplague down in a swift arc. A quick look out of the corner of my eye shows that the Hydra is dissipating into the ground once more, and so, I can focus solely on my foe.  
  
It blocks my strike, and so I quick preform another, this one nicking the side of it's blocking arm. Again and again, I attack, and finally it misses, allowing me fair access to it's torso. I drag the metal down it's stomach, watching with sick fascination as blood and intestines spill forth-  
  
[_Sick, sick! This is just sick-_]  
  
[_Shut_ up_, and enjoy the game. . ._]  
  
The thing stares down, and if it were capable of emotions, I'd say it would be disbelief on this one's gruesome face. I take the opportunity to bring the sword upward, missing the head but striking it solidly on the way back down. There's a awful - _wonderful _- crunch, and the thing drops like a stone.  
  
From the corner of my eye I can see yet another three hobbling toward me, the final three contenting themselves with a fight against the town's Guards. I frown at these approaching creatures - all but one of them already have wounds - but raise my sword nonetheless.  
  
This is _very_ fun. . .  
  
----------  
  
This is_ very_ wrong. . .  
  
I watch as Link runs head first toward three new Council Members, that _sickening _grin on his face. They collide in a mess of claws and fangs and sword, Link dodging and moving like I have _never_ seen him move before-  
  
[This_ is how he beat Diablo. . ._]  
  
The slightly detached, but malicious gleam in his eyes keeps drawing my attention, filling me with a concern that I am slowly growing familiar with, and am finding attached to most of my thoughts about Link.  
  
[_Just how _much_ in control is he, really?_]  
  
The Council Members don't stand a chance, all of their attacks sailing harmlessly by, while Link kills them in the most cruel ways I have ever seen anything die. . .  
  
Just _how can_ he move like that?  
  
[_I'm lucky. . .I'm very lucky that he didn't fight me like this._]  
  
One the Council Members falls, and Link seems to almost instantly forget about it, stepping all over its corpse as he continues to fight and kill the others.  
  
As the last one falls, I jump down from the building, ignoring the Guards who continue to fight the remaining three. I move swiftly toward Link, noticing instantly with dread how his gaze is shifting, over toward the Guards. . .  
  
Will he be able to tell them apart from his enemy?  
  
I don't_ let_ him take the chance.  
  
"_LINK!_"  
  
----------  
  
_Kill. . .Kill them! Watch them bleed! Watch them fall before you, in a rain of blood-  
_  
"_LINK!_" The voice - [_. . .Sheik?_] sounds strong and loud into my head, and I give it a good shake, trying to clear away the mist. I feel tired, almost drained, and bizarrely enough, I can barely remember what has happened. I cup my head in my hands, my ears ringing strangely, and I think I can feel the start of a headache-  
  
I'm suddenly forced to turn around, to face a very worried Sheik, his crimson eyes wide and frightened. His cowl is down, and I can see his lips twisting into a tentative frown. I look away from him for a moment, back at my hand, giving myself yet another shake. His hands are on my shoulders, his grip tight. What could be worrying him so much-?  
  
I catch view of the ground, and my own eyes widen.  
  
[_The Council Members. . ._]  
  
I spin about, and catch a good view of the remaining to civilians, hiding behind about ten guards who are fighting off the remaining two Council Members, the body of a third close by.  
  
I have the _strangest_ feeling that the rest are mine.  
  
A shudder runs through my body, and I feel Sheik's grip tighten. The memories slam back into my head, all the sick, twisted thoughts as my blade slid through all of them.  
  
Why. . .? It's never been _this _bad, before_. . .why?  
_  
Sheik seems to know what my problem is - at least he seems to - and I can feel his hand moving around on my shoulder, the comforting motions helping to keep my mind on the present. He says a few quiet things to me, and though I can't make out any of it - the ringing is now nearly unbearable - his voice does me good. I begin to relax, and take deep breaths.  
  
"Link," he mumbles, and distantly I am glad when I realize my headache is fading away, "are you alright?"  
  
I nod weakly, and then, somewhat reluctantly, pull away from his grasp.  
  
Whatever I was about to say dies on my lips, as I see the Guard (what remains of them) walking over in our direction. I turn, and steel myself for anything they might say.  
  
They approach slowly, somewhat orderly, and quickly, Sheik pulls up his cowl, his eyes narrowing. They walk over to us with an air of authority surrounding them, and I feel a coating of dread envelope my stomach, making me feel sick.  
  
They're dressed up in standard armor, a helmet, a breastplate, grieves and gauntlets, carrying a spear or a sword. The one in the front, his armor splattered with blood, seems to be a captain of sorts, the look on his face wizened, hard, and yet friendly. Dirty blond hair peeks out from underneath his helmet, matted to his forehead by sweat. A tired look crosses his features, and even from a distance of twenty feet, I can see the scratches and scars on his armor. He's a bit broader than the rest, wider in his shoulders.  
  
"You there, warrior. What is your name?"  
  
Seeing no reason to lie, I answer, "Link."  
  
"And that of your companion?"  
  
Sheik's voice comes out surprisingly whispery, menacing, ". . .Of _no_ concern to _you_."  
  
The Captain seems slightly put off by Sheik's answer, but I don't think he has any particular love of the Sheikah, either, ". . .If that is what you wish. Welcome, Link, and Sheikah," he gives a faint nod toward both me and Sheik, "Welcome to Gazia. To what do we owe this honor?"  
  
"I, uh, we-"   
  
"We are just passing through. We are_ not_ staying." Sheik interrupts me, and I catch him starting at me out of the corner of his gaze. . .I'm going to be answering some questions tonight, that's for sure.  
  
"That is a shame, warriors. We were_ hoping_ that ones such as yourselves-"  
  
"_MAKE WAY_! Make way!" A voice shouts, rather loudly, and I turn to see a small boy, light blond hair, dressed in surprisingly almost regal clothes running toward us, one hand raised high in the air, "Make_ way_!"  
  
The Captain turns away from us, bending over so that he is face height with the boy, "What is it, young master?"  
  
The boy, who must be no more than nine years old, doesn't answer right away, a grimace on his face as he surveys the carnage surrounding us. Like he is seeing the blood for the first Time. The look on his face is one that is familiar, as I too have worn that face several Times, myself.  
  
When I killed Gohma. . .my very_ first_ kill, and I was left standing in the pool of her disgusting blood, staring at my hands with horror. . .  
  
When poor Amplisa _died_, and I killed _mercilessly_ afterward for hours. . .Until I could no longer move. . .No longer _stand._  
  
Often during my journeys through Hell. . .  
  
The boy, after a long moment of deep thought, clears his throat, and looks up at the captain, trying to keep his gaze on the strong, powerful eyes of the man. . .He's obviously doing his best to avoid looking at all the blood and the bodies. . .I hope he doesn't look at me. I'm probably rather messy myself.  
  
[_Hope I didn't get my jacket too dirty._] The thought is random, and seems to help ease my still worn mind a bit.  
  
"My sister, Leona, wants to see him," the boy, points in my direction and for the first Time, actually looks at me. . .Strange, his eyes seem almost a bit of a purple shade. . .  
  
"Lady Leona _wants _to see_ him_?" the Captain points at me, and the boy nods.  
  
"Yes, I am to take him to her. . .He is to come_ without_ hindrance."  
  
"Well," the Captain scratches his head, what's visible beneath the helmet, "If _that's_ what the Lady wishes. . ." He turns toward us again, "Link, Sheikah, _please_ follow the young master to the Lady Leona. Her advice_ may_ be of some use to you. . ." The Captain begins to turn away, but I catch his attention with a question.  
  
"Hey, um," I start, feeling terribly out of place - it's been quite a few years since I've been around anyone with any form of formal speech (and I'm already corrupting Sheik in that way), "Who's this 'Lady Leona'?"  
  
The Captain faces me, a bit of shock in his eyes, "_What_? You don't know?. . .Oh, that's right, you're just passing through. . .Lady Leona, is, well, the _greatest _seer ever known. Her abilities with the Sight are_ unbelievably_ strong." He shrugs slightly, his armor clinking as he does so, "She is greater even then _any _Sheikah," he again says the word with disdain, and I find myself slowly growing frustrated with him, "_If_ she wishes to speak with you, then most likely she has wisdom to share. I suggest you go, now, _before_ her Ladyship gets impatient." This Time, when he turns around, both the Captain and the Guard move to leave us behind, with the boy. I turn to him (he's still trying _so _hard not to look at all the blood and gore) and study him better.  
  
He's a short little thing, his blonde hair very light and his purplish eyes very bright. I wonder briefly if he too, like his sister, has the sight. He's wearing beautiful, expensive blue clothes that shine in the light. Despite the fine make of his clothes, he is still dressed somewhat like a messenger boy - bright blue pants, same colored vest, and a blindingly bright yellow shirt underneath, complete will all the required frillies to show his importance.  
  
He clears his throat again, turning his attention to me - though he is trying to ignore the bloodier parts of me, "Um, can you come with me, please?" I nod, and a bit of a smile comes to his face, "Thank you for, um, coming on such short notice. We were-"  
  
"Don't _strain_ yourself kid. . .You don't have to talk so fancy round us, right Sheik?" I turn to face my comrade. He frowns at me, probably for the use of his name in public, but I really don't care right now. I'm trying not to think of what I have done.   
  
_Blood everywhere and you kept killing, _smiling_ as you did it and you wanted_ more-  
  
"Oh?" the boy questions, looking rather relieved, "That's good to hear. . ." He sighs loudly, "The name's Alex. They're training me to be a good assistant for my sister, Leona, and so, well. . .I have to act proper. It's a pain, really, but it's what I have to do."  
  
"Do you want to be an assistant for your sister?" I ask, glancing briefly at Sheik. He's not even paying attention. . .He probably knows all this stuff already, anyway.  
  
"No, not really," he makes a face, "She's hard to put up with. No sense of humor."  
  
"Then why be her assistant?"  
  
"Oh," he looks at me, wide eyed, as if just now understanding what I was trying to get at, "Oh, no. No, you _don't_ understand. She's. . . You'll know what I mean when you see her. . .Just come with me, we've got a ways to go." Alex turns around, motioning for me and Sheik to follow. We do so, without further questioning, walking through this second, poorer side of town.  
  
From what I've seen, the design of this town seems to be rather simple. The richer residents seem to live in the center of the town, surrounded by the middle class. On the other side of them, is the poorer people. All in all, everything seems to form a ring around the richer people, extending outward.  
  
So then, why are we heading to the outer regions of town? If this Leona is really a 'Lady', then why would she live in the poorer districts?  
  
[_Maybe she lives out of town?_]  
  
Well, I suppose that's possible. . .  
  
Guess I_ can't_ be right about _everything,_ can I?  
  
I raise a gloved hand to brush back my hair, but stop the movement halfway.  
  
My hands. . .are very, _very_ bloody.  
  
[_You _enjoyed_ it, didn't you?_]  
  
I quickly move my gaze from my hands and on to the ground below. I've been trying to avoid this train of thought. . .  
  
[_Then again, you've _always _enjoyed it, haven't you?_]  
  
I try hard to swallow around the lump in my throat as the memories come back. . .I did. . .I _did_ enjoy it. . .Didn't I?  
  
[_Hero. . .Savior. . ._]  
  
I. . .I-I _always_ do. . .  
  
[_. . .Destroyer. . ._]  
  
----------  
  
_A/N : A bit longer than previous chapters. Hope you've enjoyed. A question for you all : how is my attempt at angst? Any suggestions? Complaints? Are there any chapters that you wish to see redone? Please, review, and tell me what you thought of this chapter!  
  
Oh, and the Guard didn't recognize Sheik, cause he had on his cowl. Sheikah mostly look alike._

_I hope that I represented the Council Members well enough for everyone, as I have never seen a good picture of them (usually I'm too busy fighting them to get a good look), and that's what I've always seen them as. Maybe I'm way off._


	51. Chapter L Of Demons

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter L - Of Demons_  
  
----------  
  
"We're here," Alex states, gesturing with his arms to the large building before us, but I think that both Sheik and I are too busy gaping to pay much attention to what the boy's doing.  
  
Before us looms a large white mansion, eerily framed by the overcast background, and the dour plains beyond. At least three stories tall, and more than double the length of any of the other buildings I have seen on the way here, I can't help but say that I am awed by what I see.  
  
It's sides are painted a brilliant white, and its roof a foreboding grey that mimics the shadows that lurk behind the closed windows. Shutters rattle with the chill wind, but even their banging cannot destroy the heavy silence around this place.   
  
The whole scene is surrounded by a fence made from slender bars of metal, painted white, standing tall. Beyond the bars, I think I can catch the image of a garden, but I can't be sure. . .  
  
The overall image that is presented is rather dark and ominous, despite the use of lighter colors. It seems to be almost like a bad omen, sitting here, on these cliffs overlooking more plains.  
  
Alex, with no hesitation, begins moving forward to the ordinate gates, made of that same metal, painted white. Sheik and I follow after a moment, up the path and through the gates - which swing open with a loud creak, and close with a hollow bang.  
  
The chill wind finds its way through my coat, its icy fingers chilling my flesh. I do my best to remain stoic, but it is not the easiest thing to accomplish - my constant chill has not been friendly, as of late, and this wind is doing nothing to make it better.  
  
"Follow me. She's probably in the study, and-"  
  
"Alex? There is no need, I'm right here."  
  
The voice is haunting and beautiful and somehow familiar, all at once. As I turn to face the owner, I try to trace it - I know I have heard it before - but nothing comes to mind. Whatever memories lie with that voice tickles the back of my mind, and then fades as I reach for it, just out of-  
  
The woman that greets my eyes is. . .Well, pretty, yet eerie. She is young, with long, flowing hair, but her pale flesh and white gleaming hair makes her seem just. . .Unreal. Ethereal. . .Imaginary. . .This supernatural appearance is only heightened by the simplistic white dress she wears, sleeveless, with a modest v-neck. . .  
  
What really offsets her image is her bright, blood red eyes. . .Her pupils aren't even visible anymore, the iris and its entire contents have been turned red. Hazy and distorted, it looks almost like she's disorientated. . .  
  
The thought strikes me so suddenly I almost flinch.  
  
[_She's blind._]  
  
She's kneeling on the ground, at the edge of a garden - the flowers have yet to bloom, but I can see a multitude of buds ready to open. There is the slightest smile on her face, that only widens when a look of realization strikes her.  
  
"Hero? Is that you?"  
  
I start slightly, trying to keep the shock off my face, ". . .What? Do I know you?" The idea of the familiarity strikes me again, and I fervently begin comparing her face to every one I have ever seen before.  
  
"No, you have not seen me before, but I have seen you." Her head shifts to the side a little, her gaze changing toward Sheik, "And you have the Guardian with you! It is indeed as I had hoped-"  
  
"Whoa, what? What's going on here?" I hate to interrupt, but I felt myself becoming more lost by the minute. . .And if she's blind, how'd she know who was there?. . .And where Sheik and I were standing?  
  
. . .And what does she mean by 'Guardian?'  
  
Her head lowers, gaze turned to the ground, and I see her smile fade, to a much more sickly sweet one, "Ah. . .All shall be explained, but. . ." She puts out a hand, and suddenly Alex is at her side, helping her stand, despite the obvious three foot (at least size difference), and does a good job. I'm rather impressed. . .She's a lot taller than him, Hell, she's got to be an inch taller than Sheik, "This is not the place to speak of. . .such grim tales. . .Let us go inside, and I shall tell you more."  
  
Wordlessly, Alex leads her toward the house, and Sheik and I follow quickly. I find myself actually wishing for them to move faster, not because of my curiosity, but instead the increasing feeling of dread in my limbs, in the back of my mind. It's not much, but its there, and its almost like its watching me, making me paranoid. . .With each step I take, the feeling increases, as does my heart rate.  
  
Soon my heart is racing, as is my mind, and I find myself urging them to hurry up with my mind, wishing and cursing for them to move. The feeling has increased, heavy and oppressive and it makes me just want to move, to get going and out of whatever prying eyes are watching us. . .It feels like my chest is going to burst open, and I can feel the blood pumping so hard and I just wish they'd hurry up-  
  
Alex reaches forward, and pushes open the wooden door, agonizingly slowly. One by one, they slip in, through the threshold, and when it is my turn, I reach for the door, to hold the heavy looking thing open, but as soon as my hand touches it, there's a bright flash of light from behind my eyelids, my left hand _throbs_, and the dread increases a thousand fold.  
  
When I finally manage to open my eyes - I didn't even realize I closed them - I find myself with my hands to my face, leaning against a corner, which turns out to be right beside the door. I look up with curious eyes too see Alex staring at me in shock, Leona looking at me with knowing wisdom in her eyes. I turn to see Sheik, still standing in the door way, looking at me with worry, but also touching the door, releasing when nothing happens, and trying again.  
  
"W-what?" I ask, the words catching and heavy in my throat.  
  
". . .They see you, Hero. Can you feel them?"  
  
"Feel _what_?" Sheik's taken a step forward now, moving in between me and Leona only slightly. His presence makes me feel a little better, and I am able to meet her nearly lifeless gaze easier.  
  
"There are spirits here, in the air. . .Well, there are always spirits, everywhere, alive or dead, but many more are attracted here. . .Whether it's because of me, or due to the old history of this house, I am unsure. . ." She looks back at me, thoughtful, "They know you are here, Hero, and they are reaching out to you."  
  
"Why? Why me?" I ask, watching her carefully. Why would a bunch of spirits try to-  
  
"You are the Hero of Time, and thus touch_ every_ soul."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"When you travel through time, and when you do so, you touch the Time Stream. You touch all lives, as the Time Stream itself is made from the souls of those living in that time. . .When you alter history, what is meant to be, you change the Stream itself."  
  
"What do you mean?" Sheik asks, confused. I too, am at a loss, and Leona shakes her head, that bittersweet smile on her face.  
  
"I will tell you more, but I think we should continue heading to the study. . .That is, if you are ready, Hero?" I shake off the final feelings of dread as best as I can, but they still remain strong. At least it is not bothering me so badly as before, and I am not on the verge of a panic attack. . .The Triforce symbol, on the back of my hand, is glowing softly, but no longer throbbing.  
  
I give a nod to Leona, which somehow, despite her apparent blindness, she catches, and hand in hand with Alex, she turns again, and they continue to lead us down the hall.  
  
My Triforce symbol. . .Ever since I got it back, its been the last thing on my mind, really. There's too much else to think about, but still, when the thought does strike me, I notice something different about it. . .It almost seems to burn in my veins, trying to act as a counter to the chill slowly enveloping me. . .But it doesn't work, or maybe that's not what its supposed to do. . .But whatever the case, I am sure that things about it aren't quite right. . .I know it shouldn't burn like that, I know it didn't before I lost it, but. . .Well, maybe because I just got it back, but. . .I'm quite sure it didn't do that when I first got it, so long ago. . .  
  
Pushing those thoughts aside, I study the hall we are still walking down. Dark, gloomy, lit up by only the occasional lamp beside the doors, it seems to be a rather fitting scene for the dread that this still working through my system, though not as bad as before. I wonder briefly about what Leona said, about the spirits, but it isn't long before I find out.  
  
Just as with outside, I feel that dread growing with each step. . .When I opened the door, it was almost as if a flood was released upon me, a flood which subsided shortly thereafter, but is strengthening again. From within the dread, I notice something darker. Dark, pent up emotions begin. . .drifting by me, and soon it changes from just the feelings, to the thoughts themselves-  
  
_Please please don't-_  
  
_I'm going to_ kill _you_!

I give a bit of a jump, but a warm hand on my shoulder makes me turn. Sheik's standing there, understanding on his face. I watch him for a second, and when I see that his expression does not waver, I swallow the feelings - that aren't mine - building up within me, and turn around, continuing despite the darkness all around me.  
  
Leona doesn't seem to notice my plight, or perhaps, doesn't care. Not that it matters, really, as now that she has given me that first warning, I am at least able to understand what I am feeling in the air, which is enough for me to fight it off.  
  
But I still don't quite understand why. . .  
  
Alex and Leona suddenly turn, facing a small door. There's a quick movement, and suddenly Alex has a set of keys in his hand, all attached to a large metal ring. They clink against each other loudly, as the small boy fumbles with them, finally finding the right one and opening the door. Sheik and I follow swiftly, myself with the vain hope that in the light I see beyond the threshold that the thoughts and emotions flitting through the air will suddenly end.  
  
It is lighter in this room, but the feelings of dread, hate, malice, and sadness do not disappear. I try to push them away as I study this room, which I am assuming is the study. The roof is high, at least twenty feet up from the floor, but the overall width and length of the room is rather normal. On the far side is a large, outward curving window, dissected into smaller squares by a network of wooden frames. The floor here is not carpeted, instead just wood, and the furniture is sparse - a few chairs, a table off in the corner, and some lamps, which are not currently lit.  
  
I turn my vision back toward the window and take in the scenery. It is a great view, and oddly exhilarating. A wonderful look upon the cliffs and the plains below, and off in the distance I think I can see the winding blue of a river, and eventually the endless blue of the ocean, many miles away. . .  
  
[_That's not were we came from, though. . .We came from the south shore, heading north. . .That's the eastern shore._]  
  
Alex leads Leona over toward a chair, near the windows, and motions for us to take a seat, as well. Across from Leona's seat is another three chairs, facing hers, and we chose our spots rather awkwardly. I can tell that Sheik feels a bit out of place, as well. . .  
  
"Thank you for coming, Hero, Guardian," Leona motions to the boy, "Alex, you may go. . .Thank you for your help."  
  
He bows to her, almost awkwardly, "Your welcome, your. . .your Ladyship." It isn't long before it is just us and Leona in this room, which due to the high ceiling seems almost too large, too empty. . .  
  
There is a silence, in which I take the opportunity to glance at the large paintings on the walls. . .They all seem to depict valiant battles against Demons and Angels and beasts, their vibrant colors faded by the grimness of this room. . .The white paint and the dull light coming in through the window do not help.  
  
"You have come a long way to get here, haven't you?" Leona asks, and I nod.  
  
"Yeah. . .We were told you wanted to see us."  
  
"I knew you were coming, Hero. . ."  
  
"Oh. . .And how did you know?"  
  
She smiles again, that bittersweet smile nearly breaking my heart with its sadness, "The spirits."  
  
"You said you will tell us more," Sheik points out, ". . .Mind talking?" His tone leaves no room for refusal.  
  
". . .Hero, when you travel through time, the stream that you move through is the Time Stream. It is a collection of souls from that era. . .Every life that is born, or dies, is in that stream. When you travel through time, you. . .you swim through this stream, and touch everything within. The spirits recognize that feeling, and I suppose it reminds them of their waking life. They reach out to that feeling - to you - perhaps to try and regain what they have lost."  
  
"And what do you mean by reaching out?" Sheik's eyes narrow, and I get the feeling that for some strange reason, he does not trust her. . .Not that Sheik really trusts that many people, from the look of it.  
  
"Their soul touches his," Sheik's eyes widen at this, but before he can say anything, Leona continues, her voice steady and strong, "Do not worry, Sheikah, they will cause him no harm. . . As long as he does not listen to them. . ." She turns her attention to me, "Don't listen to them, just ignore them. . .Listening to the can only cause madness."  
  
_. . .hate you. . .I _HATE_ YOU-  
  
Please, no more. . .PLEASE!_  
  
I shake my head at the sudden screaming contest in my mind, trying to force out the thoughts. When I look up at Leona, she continues as if knowing exactly what I am thinking.  
  
"They want help, Hero. Help, or vengeance, and you can give them neither. They still want it, though. . .But just ignore them. There is nothing you can do for them."  
  
Sheik's eyes narrow slightly, "So, they want him to save them because they _what?_ Remember him?"  
  
"Because they remember his presence. . .It is complicated to say the least, and we must not forget that these are errant souls, most often mad and insane. But that is not the only reason why they are attracted to you, Hero." Her piercing red gaze seems to bore a hole into my own soul.  
  
". . .What is the other reason?" I ask, my voice still heavy and thick. It's surprisingly hard to talk.  
  
Her eyes are kindly, if a bit disturbing, "Your Soul Stone."  
  
"Why would it?" He asks, looking genuinely confused, "Why would it attract the souls to you?"  
  
"It was-"  
  
"It was what Tyrael used to seal Link into his prison," Leona interrupts, "but it also serves another purpose," She turns toward me, "Hero. . .Do you remember what Izual said to you when you defeated him?"  
  
"Izual?" Sheik asks, I turn to look at him.  
  
"One of Tyrael's old comrades. . .The Angel betrayed many secrets to Hell. . .Switched sides, and 'fell' for an ambush. . ." I look back at Leona, and consider her words, ". . .I think he said that it was all planned by the Prime Evils, that they could use it to. . .to. . ."  
  
"To corrupt those who were influenced by the stones," Leona continues for me, "That was their purpose. However, it backfired for them. Diablo was not expecting the other hero to stab himself with the stone. . .Diablo was hoping for the stone to be left, forgotten, and when the time was right, he would be able to re-manifest himself, and walk out, without having to worry about opponents. Thus, he would be able to free Baal with no resistance, and then Mephisto. . .But with the hero taking on the burden, he had to gain control. The end result had everyone knowing of his escape. It still worked in his favour, but he would have wanted a less. . .famous host, at least, that is what I believe."  
  
"What about my Soul Stone?" I ask, clasping the thing in my hand worriedly.  
  
"Do not fear. . .While people were corrupted into twisted beings by the Soul Stone of Mephisto, yours harbors only your own soul, and that is all. It will not harm you, and it would actually be safer to keep it with you, at all times."  
  
"Wait wait wait," Sheik lowers his head and rubs the bridge of his nose with his right hand, "What are you talking about? I know it was used to seal you, but. . .It has your soul inside it? I thought. . ."  
  
"Yes," Leona answers, "And if it is destroyed. . .Link will die too."  
  
Sheik's confusion and irritation is instantly replaced by muted shock.   
  
"The Soul Stones trap souls inside, and also attract outside souls, too. By being both the Hero of Time, and the holder of the Fourth Soul Stone, you are pretty much a vacuum for souls, except, well. . .You attract them, but you aren't absorbing them-"  
  
_Not yet._  
  
"Link, something wrong?" I raise my head to see Sheik, looking at me. I shake my head.  
  
"No just more of those. . .voices." At least. . .I think. . .  
  
Leona smiles, "Ignore them, and everything will be fine." I nod.  
  
"Lady Leona," Sheik begins, sounding slightly nervous with the question, "Do you hear these spirits as well?"  
  
She nods, "Yes, I do. I also see them."  
  
"Is that how you know where we are?" I ask. Sheik looks slightly surprised, "I mean, you are blind, are you not?"  
  
She turns her head downward, looking almost ashamed, ". . .Indeed, I am. Most people who are born with the Sight, have it until the day they die, and it never strengthens or weakens. . .I, however. . .My Sight gets worse with each passing day. . .It used to be that I could see the real world, and the ghostly images of the spirits. . .But now the real world is just a shadow to me." She turns toward the window, "I can tell where people are, as their spirits shine bright as day, but. . .I need help getting around the house. That is Alex's duty, as much as he abhors it. I don't wish it on him, but it _is_ our father's will that he be my assistant."  
  
A silence falls then, through which I can feel those raging thoughts flowing again, strong. I force myself to ignore them though, as Leona said, but they seem to be focusing in the back of my mind, and every now and then I have to give myself a good shake to clear my thoughts. Voices that I have never heard before scream harshly in my ears, screaming for redemption, or calling for death.  
  
"What are we supposed to do next?" Sheik asks, pulling my attention away from the spirits, "I mean, I'm thinking of stopping by Temal," he looks at me as he adds, "on the west coast, but what do we do? What. . .What is Link to do next?"  
  
"It is a good thing you came here. . .I know that you have been wandering blind to what comes next, but your plans, Sheikah, are good. Head to Temal, and then your way will become clear. . ."  
  
"Hey," I begin, my attention being pulled back to something I nearly forgot about, "When Tyrael sealed me, he kept going on. . .something about me being corrupted. . .What did he mean?"  
  
She turns her eyes away from us, down to the floor, looking thoughtful. I wait patiently, and finally, after a full two minutes of silence, she answers.  
  
"He is correct, Hero. . .You _are_ corrupted."  
  
"What?" Sheik and I ask in unison, shock on his face and surprise on mine.  
  
"What do you mean?" I continue, "I. . .I-I'm not corrupted! I'm perfectly fine!"  
  
"Really?" Leona looks at me, a genuine sadness in her eyes, "Can you truly say that? What about your eyes?" She shakes her head, "You are changing, Hero, and not for the better. . .Tyrael was right, you are corrupted."  
  
"B. . .But by what?" I ask, "My Soul Stone?"  
  
"No. . .Do you remember, when you fought Diablo, and he cut your neck with his claws?"  
  
My left hand goes up, and gingerly touches the scar there and icy cold dread fills my chest, ". . .Yes. . ."  
  
Leona bites her lip, seeming to think over what she's about to say, ". . .You see, the Prime Evils are a more. . .Spiritual thing. You can kill them as much as you want, but they'll will aways come back."  
  
"What are you talking about?" I ask, wondering both at the sudden switch in conversational direction, and the prospect of Diablo walking the earth again, "What's this have to do-"  
  
"They are spiritual. . .Eternal. . .The Prime Evils feed on _souls_, Link. That is why they are so destructive. . .No other being, well, almost no other being has ever had such a blood thirst. They, like most Demons, feed on souls, but due to their huge size-"  
  
"What's this other being you spoke of?" Sheik interrupts. Leona sighs.  
  
"I'm not really sure. . .The Gods, at times, can also be bloodthirsty. . .Very much so. . .But I don't know much more than that. . ." She looks back at me, her eyes studying me in a way that for once, I'm not all that uncomfortable with, "But as I was saying, Demons, and even some Angels feed on souls. That is how the worlds' souls are replenished. Souls like these-" she gestures to the room with one hand, "-seek a Demon, to set them free, even if they do not know it. Souls are eternal, but they cannot be reborn - unless they are devoured, and sent back."  
  
"Sent back to where?"  
  
Leona only shrugs at Sheik's question.  
  
"But Prime Evils are the. . .The epitome of all Demons. They are the ultimate, the only thing stronger than the Prime Evils are the Gods themselves, and Gods don't feed on the souls. . .If a Prime Evil is killed, it is cast into the void. . .But it will return, as something will have to fill up the absence it has left behind, and once again, there is nothing else that can do it."  
  
"So, what's this got to do with me being corrupted?"  
  
"Well, Diablo lent you some of his energies when he gave you that wound. Purposely. The energies, while not permanent, were able to infect you. . .Link. . .You are _becoming_ a Demon."  
  
. . .?!  
  
[What_?!_]  
  
"_What_?" I ask, jumping to my feet, off the chair. Any nervous energies that have been building up are being spent by my frantic pacing in front of my and Sheik's chairs. Leona watches me - or should I say my corrupted spirit - as I move, a frown on my face. A quick glance reveals that Sheik is staring out into space, thinking.  
  
[_What's he going to think of me_ now?]  
  
I come to a stop directly in front of Leona, looking at her, disbelieving, "I. . .I _can't_ be a Demon! I-I look _nothing_ like one! I-"  
  
"Your _eyes_, Link. . .Your increasing_ love_ for battle. . .Why you're_ still_ alive."  
  
I slow down, finally taking a seat, sitting down with a heavy, defeated sigh. At her last statement, I raise an eyebrow, ". . .So that's why?. . .And here I was hoping it was because I was in such good shape. . ." The humor dies on my lips, and I stare at my hands, clasping them tightly on my knees. They're shaking so bad, ". . .Am I. . .Am I going. . . going to. . .l-lose control of myself?" I ask in a small voice. My voice quavers just a touch.  
  
[_No I don't want to be a Demon please no-_] Images of blood and destruction pass behind my eyelids, and I feel. . . _afraid._  
  
Leona shrugs, looking rather deflated, defeated, ". . .It_ is_ possible that you will become a raving murderer who wishes to kill everything on sight, yes."  
  
I chuckle at the dark humor that runs through my mind, [_Like that isn't already happening. . ._] but the scenes of bloody murder flash behind my eyes, and I find my stomach clenching at the very implication, ". . .Well, _shit_."  
  
"It's impossible to tell at this point, though. The future hasn't been completely written yet, and of all people, you, as the Hero of Time, have the possibility to change your future, and everyone else's. If you manage to survive that long, then it is possible. . .Anything is, but as long as you maintain your free will. . .As long as you fight it, you might be able to stay who you are. . ."  
  
". . .What class of Demon am I?" I ask quietly.  
  
"Sorry?"  
  
"What class of Demon am I? Am I like, your average little minion Demon that runs around, bitting at people's ankles, or am I stronger than that? Something like. . .Like what Tyrael used to guard my prison?"  
  
"I. . .I don't know. It all depends, really. How much of his energies Diablo got into you, how much you give in to it. . .It's all a matter of chance, really, though. . .I don't think he would have made you into some 'little ankle bitting minion'. . .I think he would have made you into something stronger than that, but only time will tell."  
  
I sigh, heavily.  
  
[_Damn. . ._]  
  
"I know that what I have just told you must bear a heavy weight upon your shoulders. For that, I apologize, but. . .It is better that you find out now, rather than later."  
  
"Was that what Baal was trying to use me for?. . .I don't remember exactly what he did, but. . ." I give my head a good shake, my throat dry, ". . .He tried to do something-"  
  
"Yes, he was hoping to bring Diablo's plans into fruitation, but he did not succeed. Do not be surprised if he tries again," her eyes, however dead like they seem, lock on mine, "You are his last chance, Link. If he fails, then the Prime Evils are all defeated. . .For a time. It would cause a terrible unbalance upon the spiritual worlds."  
  
". . .I. . ." I'm so lost. . .what am I supposed to do? There's a terrible ache in my chest, my head is throbbing. . .Gods, what is Sheik going to think of me? Is he going to hate me? The first real friend I've had. . .Had since Navi, for Din's sake, and I might lose him to something so trivial as-  
  
Okay, maybe it's not _so_ trivial. . .Damn, I just don't know if I can take it-  
  
"I know this is hard, Link, but you must understand. . .I would help you more, if I could, but you must understand. . .You are the only person ever - of either Elf or Human - to ever undergo this process. . .What Diablo did to you, he has never done it to anyone else. Ever. He must have been taking a huge risk, to waste energy on a plan that he didn't even know would work. . .All other Demons were created by the damnation of their souls after death. . .Or through the corruption of a Soul Stone. Never like this." I sigh at her words, running a hand through my hair, feeling my chest constrict with my nervousness, ". . .It is starting to get late, I think. . .I know that you don't have anywhere to go. . .Alex can lead you to a guest room. . .You are welcome to stay the night."  
  
I mumble my thanks, pushing myself up to my feet. My body seems tired, and old, and dirty. . .But not in a way that can be cleaned with a bath, or something of like, no. . .This goes down deeper, appearing at the knowledge of what I am. . .I swallow past a knot in my throat, and walk by Sheik, heading for the door to the room. . .  
  
[_Farore. . .I think I'm going to be sick. . ._]  
  
Before I leave, I quickly try to catch a glance of my friend's face, but I can't see. He's turned away from me, purposely avoiding my gaze. My eyebrows knit into a sorrowful frown. . .If. . .If he hates me. . .What am I supposed to do? Is there. . .Anything I can do?  
  
The door shuts behind me with a empty click, and suddenly, I am more alone than I ever have been in my entire life.  
  
---------  
  
Link. . .Is a Demon?  
  
. . .A Demon?  
  
"Sheikah?"  
  
I ignore Leona, continuing to think about this new revelation. . .If Link is a Demon, then is anyone safe around him? How can I _take_ such a chance with my life, with-  
  
"Sheikah,_ please_, listen to me. . ."  
  
-everyone elses lives? Wouldn't it be better to just kill him now?. . .I wouldn't want to do it, of course, but one must always look out for the greater good. . .Goddesses, it would kill me to harm him, after I've come this far with him but how could I not? How could I. . .How could I let something like this happen?. . .I've been protecting him this far. . .Heh, protecting a Demon, the _one_ thing that does not need to be protected. . .A chuckle escapes my lips at the dark humor, dry and mirthless.  
  
I should have listened closer. . .When Link was first telling his story, I should have listened closer. . .I had guess that Diablo 'tainting' him may have done something, but I never took it seriously. . .I was such a fool! I've been traveling in the company of a Demon! If I had done something sooner. . .I have to do something! Demons. . .Demons-  
  
"_SHEIKAH_!" Leona's voice suddenly gains a powerful edge, "Listen to me." I find my temper suddenly flaring.  
  
"_What_?" I turn to look at her, a frown deeply entrenched on my face. My voice is nothing more than a venomous hiss, an attempt at getting her to bug off. She doesn't seem to notice, but I do see the beginnings of a scowl on her face, but it fades almost as soon as it appeared.  
  
"Sometimes. . ." her words are slow and sad, sorrowful, and the sharp contrast between her tone and my burning hot angry thoughts causes me to pay more attention than I planned, ". . .Sometimes, we _cannot_ save someone, no matter how hard we try. . .Do you think that I did not see the attack by those monsters on the town?"  
  
I let the thought roll around in my head and suddenly it clicks and I'm no longer mad, I'm _furious_, "You knew about that? How. . .Why did you stop them? Warn somebody? Why did you not tell anyone? You could have saved lives!" My voice is a fast, furious whisper, almost impossible to hear over my heavy breathing.  
  
"There. . .There are some things that cannot be changed, Sheikah. I could not save them. . .I could not save them. . .Had I told anyone, the monsters would have just made it to their hiding place, and killed many more, and the two of you wouldn't have come across them. . .The Guards wouldn't have lasted, Sheikah. . .No, the only way I could save anyone was by sacrificing a few. . .Kill the one, for the many. . ." Her red orbs focus on me, bright and a mixture of self hate and anger, "But. . .You _can_ save Link. Please. . .Do not be afraid of him. . .Please. . ."  
  
I grunt in anger, not really caring that I am so obviously showing each and every little emotion that crosses through my mind. It just all seems so. . .so_ pointless_ now. . ., ". . .Whatever," I snarl, eyes narrowing, ". . .Can't trust a Demon." With those words, I exit through the door and leave. With any luck, I'll find Alex and somewhere I can sleep. As much as I don't want to be in the same house as him, I have no choice. . .To go traveling through town at this time of night, well, would be suicide. . .The Guards_ hate_ the Sheikah.  
  
---------  
  
_A/N : . . .Did that go well at all? Was it at all good?. . .I hope so. . .I could really use some pointers, please. . .Oh, and thanks Ice Dragon, I figured I over used them. . .I went back and fixed a few, though I'll probably have to go back and it again. . .  
  
Any comments, suggestions, complaints? Please review!_ _Oh, and if there are any chapters anyone wants me to go back and revamp, then please just let me know!_ _Oh, and another thing. . .The lore behind Diablo 1 and 2 (the games) I had to make some of it up, as I do not truly know everything about the plotline behind them, and this is an AU story. Same with the feeding on souls bit. Sorry if this bothers you. Bye!_

_[Edit] - I've had a lot of people talking to me about Yaoi. . .Well, this story won't be a yaoi, however I shall take the adice of one of my reviewers, and make an alternate yaoi version of this story. . .Example:_

_Current story:_

_Act I : Trial of a Man._

_blah blah blah._

_Yaoi version:_

_--Act I : Trial of a Man -- ---- (something like the dashes, anyway)_

_YAOI version. Blah blah blah._

_There, so you wouldn't have to worry, as long as you make sure you know which one your reading. . .But Act I won't have any yaoi, as no romance really starts up till Act III. They would be two completely different stories, not so much in plot ways but they would be submitted seperately. Thus, you could read the normal version, and never come across a bit of the yaoi, got it?_

_Thanks, and bye!_


	52. Chapter LI In the Dark

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter LI - In the Dark_  
  
----------  
  
I stand there, poised in the darkness, ready to strike. Blade in my hand, tip facing downward, toward my enemy. The air is heavy, stale, catching in my lungs awkwardly as I struggle to breathe and remain unknown. Thick as it is, the darkness is thicker, and it is only by the stream of moonlight coming in through the dusty old window that I can even see my opponent.  
  
My hands are shaking, and a bead of sweat winds its way down my forehead, dripping down and under my collar. I give my head a brief shake, tightening my grip with both hands on the weapon in my hands, holding it in a white knuckle grip that I know will leave my muscles sore and aching.  
  
[_Come on. . .gotta do this. . ._]  
  
I close my eyes, take a deep breath. . .Raise the blade and I-  
  
. . .I. . .  
  
[_I _can't _do this_. . .]  
  
I fling my arm to the side, dropping the blade and effectively disarming myself. The dagger falls to the floor with a clatter, skidding off and underneath the adjacent bed. Link stirs in his sleep, body twisting, eyes fluttering slowly. I raise my hands to my face, and stare at them, clenching and unclenching my fists.  
  
[_I. . .I can't-!_]  
  
[_-but you_ must!]  
  
[_But he's my friend_-]  
  
Eyes open partly, revealing slivers of an unknown shade of blue. Upon recognition, Link frowns sleepily, and blinks several times. He looks up at me, eyes much more open now. The pupils are deceptively round but I know that in a brighter light they would narrow and become much more elliptical-  
  
[_-Not quite slits, no, not yet, but in time that will change and-_]  
  
". . .Sheik?" Link asks, looking up at me sleepily, with a hint of worry in his eyes. He's lying mostly on his side, but his upper body is turned slightly so that his shoulder blades are flat against the soft of the bed. One arm is raised partially off the mattress, and as tired as he looks, I know that if I were to ask he'd be up in a second.  
  
[_He's. . .He's my _friend_. . .I. . .I can't-_]  
  
"Sheik?" Link asks again, aware but still slurring with his exhaustion, "Sumthin' wrong? Why aren't you in bed yet?" He yawns and raises his hand to cover it, but his face doesn't loose that serious look, nor the worry.  
  
". . .I. . .I couldn't sleep," I partially lie, worry overcoming me, ". . .I just wanted to see if. . .if you were asleep, is all," he gives me a quick, questioning look, and fear races through me-  
  
[_-he knows I'm lying he _knows-]  
  
". . .'kay," his voice rapidly looses its clarity as he turns over, and begins drifting back asleep, ". . .go ta bed though. . .tired in the morng. . ." He falls silent, chest rising and falling with each breath. . .  
  
I look away guiltily.  
  
When Link asks no more, and is definitely asleep, I sprint quietly out of the room, slipping through the half opened door and into the halls, panic pounding away in my veins.  
  
----------  
  
"You tried to kill him, didn't you?"  
  
The voice is swift and unexpected, coming from behind me, and my hands leave their hold on the railing of the balcony to swiftly turn about and face my surprise visitor. With little surprise, I see that it is Lady Leona, standing across from me, dressed in that same simplistic white gown she wore earlier this evening. . .  
  
Her words quickly sink in, and I turn away, facing back to the view this balcony offers, gripping the railing tightly in my hands.  
  
". . .You'd know all about that, _wouldn't _you?" I hiss tiredly, my words almost lost in the gentle breeze that washes over me, ruffling my bangs almost playfully.  
  
". . .I saw it, if that's what you mean. . ." There's the creaking of wood as Leona makes her way over to me, "But the future is not set in stone, Sheikah. . ."  
  
"What am I supposed to do?" I sigh, leaning against the railing, ". . .He's a Demon, for Din's sake. . .A Demon!" I lay my head down on my arms, staring out with confusion in my eyes, "What am I supposed to do. . .?"  
  
Leona lays a hand on my shoulder, and while I don't stand straight up again, I rotate my head and look at her out of the corner or my eye. She smiles, bittersweet, ". . .I cannot tell you what to do, Sheikah. . .I can only tell you the consequences of your actions."  
  
". . .And?"  
  
"Talk to him Sheik, watch over him. . .Do you know why I called you Guardian?"  
  
I shake my head.  
  
"Because that is our only hope. . .If you watch over him, 'guard' him, then maybe. . .maybe. . ." She looks out to the sky with a far off look in her eyes, fingers clenching my uniform tightly, "Maybe. . .You'll save him, Sheikah. . ."  
  
"But I_ can't_!" I cry, my voice a frenzied whisper, "I can't! He's a Demon!". . .A Demon!"  
  
Her smile remains unwavering, as if trying to defy what I say, "That he may be, but that does not mean that he is cursed to be a vile, murderous wretch. Tell me, Sheikah, when Link told you of his adventures, do you remember the Demon he spoke of that guarded his prison?"  
  
I nod. He didn't give me any details, but I do remember him mentioning that, ". . .Yeah, so?"  
  
Her hand, having long released its tight grip on my uniform, rubs up and down my arm absently, "Well, do you think that Tyrael would use a hell bound beast to do the work of the Light?"  
  
". . .?"  
  
She sighs, her hand stopping its motions as she too moves forward, and places her hands on the railing, ". . .How do you think I got here, Sheikah?. . .As Link mentioned, I am blind. . .My brother is long asleep, so how did I find my way, here to you, without falling and killing myself?"  
  
I give no answer, just staring at her curiously. I have stood back upright, my hands no longer with their white knuckled grip on the wooden banister. Tearing her gaze away from the scenery before us, Leona looks at me with a sorrowful look in her eyes.  
  
". . .I'm going to die soon, you know?. . .I think I mentioned it before, my purpose was solely to give both you and the Hero advice. . .Once one's purpose is done, then it isn't much longer till their lives are too." Knowledge shines brightly in her eyes, lacking pupils, and she turns her gaze to the stars, ". . .You can feel it, once you've completed your purpose. . .It is like. . .Like a door closes in your mind. Something clicks, and it just feels. . .so. . .so _final_."  
  
Leona looks back at me, that smile subdued, but not gone, ". . .I know that I only a short time left, now that we are done speaking. . .Maybe a year, maybe more. . ." Again she looks back out at the darkness, cold and quiet and terribly consuming, ". . .I think I will fall, when I die. Yes, I _will_ fall to my death. Maybe it will be on the stairs that I meet my end, maybe on the cliffs themselves. . ."  
  
Red eyes focus back on me, "What I am trying to say Guardian, is though I am done, beaten, blind and near my end, I was able to come here, alone, to find you. I found you through your pain. . .It radiates off your soul like a beacon, shining bright in the shadow that is my world. I found you, because I _wanted_ to. . .Tyrael used that Demon, because it served the Light. . ."  
  
". . .And with your help, Link might be saved. . ." My eyes widen at what she says, what she's implicating, "Did you not see how distressed he was? He does not want to be a Demon, Sheikah, but if he succumbs to despair and hatred. . ."  
  
"Are you saying that I. . .? I can-?"  
  
"That is the gift of Life, Sheikah, the ability to decide our own paths. . .Certainly, there are times where we have no choice, where we are guided to our Destiny, but most of a man's fate is his own. Tell me Sheikah, what is preventing you from going back to your bed, and leaving with Link in the morning, or walking out of this house right now, and never coming back? Only you, and your own thoughts stand in your way."  
  
"But surely-?"  
  
"Humans and Elves are the only creatures with so much control over their fate. . .They choose their path, their thoughts, their minds, their damnation or their salvation. . .It is there decision that takes them down that path. Once the way has been decided, true, then it is hard to escape the ensuing effect, the way it snowballs, but Fate generally gives man desecration over his own life," she blinks slowly, and raises her eyes to the stars, ". . .Gods have no Fate, no time of their own. . .They are alone, forever. . .It is our own mortality, our own weakness not only to Time but to Death itself that gives us our existence. . .Fate is bound to us in this manner, through Time and Death. . .Gods know neither. . .They are like an undead, never moving forward to death, or back to birth. . . They remain as they always have. Neither alive, nor dead. . ." Her red eyes almost seem to glow in the moonlight, glittering beautifully, "Gods are truly the only thing that can interrupt man's restless flow. . .Gods are the bringers of change, of Fate."  
  
"What are you saying?" I ask, watching her carefully.  
  
"That things have yet to snowball, Sheikah, and until that happens you have almost free reign of what you do. . .If it weren't. . .If it weren't for Fate, what little does intervene occasionally, then there would be chaos. . ." The stars shine so brightly in her crimson eyes, "People would be challenging the Gods so often. . .At least this way, only the mad are insane enough to even try it," She gives her head a quick shake, "Men challenging Gods. . ." A bitter laugh, "How foolish we be, to even place our strengths in the same_ universe_ as a God's. . ."  
  
"Mortals can challenge Gods? But. . .why?" I frown, looking at her face, "Why would _anyone_-?"  
  
"The legends say that if a mortal kills a God, they shall take their place. . .Many do it for the power, or for the glory. . .Or for the fact that it is truly the only way to escape Fate. . ." Her eyes sadden in a heart wrenching expression, "To escape death. . ."  
  
I am, to say the least, surprised, ". . .Really? has anyone ever-"  
  
"One man has, and only the one. . .Though no one really knows. . .He is rumored to live south of Temal, though I do not know where."  
  
"You can't see him?"  
  
Her eyes closed, expression filled with knowledge and a strange understanding, ". . .Gods have escaped Fate, remember?" Her eyes turn heaven bound again, ". . .But you still have a chance to save Link, Sheikah. . .Protect him, be there for him. . .If he is left alone, his humanity will fail, and the Demon would prevail. . ."  
  
I frown, thinking. . .Opening my mouth to ask-  
  
". . .What about _my _future?"  
  
She smiles again, but the gesture is much more sad than before. . .She looks almost as if on the verge of tears, "It is. . .hard to tell. . .In my visions, I have not seen you dying, but. . .It is impossible to be certain. . .The Hero is the focus of most of my visions, not you."  
  
I nod with understanding, and the developing of cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach, "I see. . ."  
  
"Go to him, Sheikah. . .He will need you in the soon to be future. . ." A silence descends as we both stare at the stars, and I wonder, can she even see them? "Do not worry about provisions, or the like. . .I shall provide you with enough to last you till you reach the other side of the mountains."  
  
"Goodnight, Guardian," she says to me, and it is with a dreading heart, and an upset mind that I wander back to our room, where Link lies asleep and I remain awake, the subject of Demons weighing heavily upon my mind.  
  
---------  
  
_"It's been a long time, Link."  
  
The voice gives me a start, and I turn around, not bothering to sit up from my comfortably reclined position in the middle of the flower field.  
  
". . .Malon?"  
  
I watch as the farm girl walks over to me, her dress swishing in the grasses, a true smile on her face. Once she reaches my side, she takes a seat, staring out at the same scenery I was but moments ago. . .She slowly turns her gaze to me.  
  
"You sound surprised to see me. . ." There's a hint of confusion on her face, but that suddenly changes into a smile, "I'm so glad I finally found you. . ."  
  
". . .You were looking for me?" I study her face. . .It's different. . .Older than I remember. There are lines there that I have never seen on her before, scars that I know did not exist. . .  
  
"I have missed you so much, Link. . ."  
  
"This. . .This is a dream. . .isn't it?"  
  
Malon shrugs. I turn my gaze away from her, and back toward the golden horizon, the same color as the multitude of flowers. The world seems to absolutely glow.  
  
"I don't know. . .It's something, though. . ."  
  
I turn to look at her face. . .Her face, containing for once, no hatred toward me. . .  
  
"It's good to see you, Malon," I reach out, fingers lightly grazing her skin. . .There is no sensation, but the real relief comes from seeing my fingers not disappear into her. . .For her not to be an illusion.  
  
"Link," she reaches up and grabs my hand, "_Please_. . ."  
  
I look at her, surprised, curious, and wary, ". . .what?"  
  
"_Please_. . .Set me_ free_. . ."  
  
I stare at her, wide eyed, "What?!"  
  
The sorrow in her expression is so acute that I almost submit, "Please. . .I. . .I want to be reborn. . ._Please_," she brings down my hand, and clasps it with both of hers, "I don't want to be dead anymore. . .I _want _to be reborn. . ."  
  
I pull my hand away from hers, and look down at the ground, feeling ashamed, guilty, ". . .Malon, I can't. . .I don't. . .I don't even know _how_!"  
  
"All you have to do, is just give in, just a _little_. . ." Her bright blue eyes meet with mine, and somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, alarm bells are going off like mad, ". . .Just give in to the Demon,_ please_. . ._Free me_. . ."  
  
My eyes go wide, and I pull back, away from her. Despite my rude gesture, she does not look at all angry, instead, her small gentle smile turns into an otherworldly grin.  
  
"You. . .Your not Malon, are you?" Fear runs thick through my veins, and my heart races to meet it.   
  
I watch as the grin spreads even wider, and it takes every ounce of will I have not to throw up as I watch the flesh and bone of 'Malon' twist and warp, sinew changing, molding. Tentacles sprout from its back with a fleshy rip of skin, swarming around like they all have a mind of their own. . .Skin darkens, as if flame has been taken to it, twists and bubbles. Muscles shrivel. Soon enough, I recognize the form of Baal staring back at me, changed but the same Demon, nonetheless.  
  
"Baal," I say in a breathy whisper. The Demon laughs, the sound harsh and grating on my ears.  
  
{_Little Demon_,} His arm reaches out, and suddenly I can't escape and he grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him, in the eyes. His touch seems to burn, {._ . .You know, I never did agree with my brother's plan. . .It was_ too_ foolish, _so_ risky_. . ._But he seems to have succeeded. . .Already, since I have last met you, you have grown much stronger._} His face is nearly split in half by his toothy grin.  
  
"_Shut up_! I have_ not _given in-!"  
  
{_And just imagine how powerful you will be when you do. . ._} His teeth, deadly sharp, flash in the fading light, {_All the power you could hold. . .It would be infinite. . .All you have to do is give in_-}  
  
"I_ won't_ do it!"  
  
His hand descends and grabs my shirt collar, pulling me closer to his face, which is now covered with a frown, {_You will do as you are_-}  
  
I take advantage of the lack of distance, swinging my left hand and hitting him in the side of his face. He lurches back, dropping me, and I make a mad move to scramble away.  
  
Baal stays in the same position for a long moment, sitting down, rubbing the side of his face where I hit him. Slowly, he stands, his many tentacles helping to raise him to his feet. Where his body touches, the grass goes black and the flowers wilt, turning gray. The sky begins to darken, and in the far off distance I can see the gathering of thunderclouds.  
  
{_You have no choice in this matter, Hero_,} the title is spat out like a disease, {_You will join us. . .There is _no _escaping destiny. . ._}  
  
All at once, his tentacles shoot out toward me, and I quickly raise a hand to block. Darkness descends, and in the failing light I hear him laughing, the hissing sound like poison to my ears-  
_  
---------  
  
Suddenly, I'm sitting up in a bed, gasping for air, my hair stuck to my head slick with my sweat. I stare, surprised, as the orange light of dawn drifts in through the old, dirty windows, landing down on my face. I shield my eyes.  
  
[_Where. . .?_]  
  
Oh. . .Lady Leona. . .That's right, I remember. . .  
  
Without warning, the door to the small, plain white room (furnished really only with the beds, a table in the far corner, and another one of those epic paintings) flies open. Remembering my dream, I tense, ready-  
  
And am surprised when I see a swift moving Sheik enter the room.  
  
I watch, dazed, as he moves around, two small leather backpacks in his hands, which he tosses on to his mattress. He moves over to the bed, pausing, before bending down and reaching underneath for something-  
  
"Sheik?"  
  
He looks up at me, and I wonder if he even knew that I was awake. It does not look like it.  
  
". . .Sheik. . .Are you mad with me?" His lack of response, or movement at all is beginning to make me wonder. He's just kneeling there, his knees against the hardwood floor, staring at me with something akin to surprise. A dark, sorrowful emotion passes through his eyes, disappearing before I can catch it. He shakes his head.  
  
"No, Link, I'm _not_ mad with you," he says, his voice rather normal. If it weren't for that emotion that I saw, but could not understand, I don't think I'd realize anything is wrong, "I'm just surprised you're up so early." He continues what he was doing before, reaching down underneath his bed, "You usually sleep kinda late, so I didn't think-"  
  
"Whatcha looking for?" I interrupt innocently, wanting to change the subject before one of us gets offended or into a shouting match. Wouldn't be the first Time its happened. Using the silence that comes with the sudden change of topic, I reach over for the Hellplague, grasping its handle in my cold hands.  
  
"Dropped a thing of mine under here," he replies absently, "Was putting away my weapons and stuff before I went to bed, and I dropped the damn thing. . .It was too dark, and so I put it off." He continues reaching around under there, until his movements suddenly stop. I guess he found what he was looking for.  
  
I slowly get out of bed, closing my eyes as I stretch and yawn. Slipping out of the bed, I move over to the chair in the corner, near that desk, which is where I draped my jacket. I walk over, grabbing the thing and quickly pull it over my shoulders, putting the Hellplague down just long enough to put my arm through the sleeve.  
  
When I turn around again, I see Sheik standing upright, checking his weapons with a mildly interested look on his face. I am glad to again see his cowl down, as it is much easier, more comforting to talk to his face than the cloth in front of it.  
  
"So. . .What about supplies?" I venture. Sheik absently gestures to the two bags with one of his hands, as the other continues to count and secure his weapons.  
  
". . .Leona got us some. . .Says she's sorry that she can't see us off, but the town's got some stupid thing she's gotta go to," Sheik mumbles, brow narrowing with his frustration as one of his tiny throwing daggers refuses to go into its slot, "She gave us the stuff, and some money. . .I was looking over all of it earlier. . .Lots of good stuff in there. Some healing potions, bandages, water, some herbs, food. . ."  
  
"That was very nice of her," I mention, reluctantly putting away the Hellplague before Sheik gets suspicious.  
  
I think Sheik might have noticed my hesitation to sheathe my weapon, but he says nothing about it, and so it doesn't really worry me. He might have noticed, but I don't think that he's got definite reason yet to worry about the sword.  
  
And why should he worry? I don't think I've done anything to rouse his suspicions. . .  
  
At least, I don't _think _I have.  
  
"We should probably get going," Sheik states, shouldering one of the black bags, and tossing me the other. I catch it in one hand, and mimic his movements, "The sooner we leave, the sooner we get there."  
  
He heads toward the door, and I follow, "Where exactly are we heading?" I ask, shifting the backpack on my back until I find a more comfortable position for it.  
  
He looks at me, and gives me a bit of grin, "We are heading to a port town on the west coast called Temal," his expression darkens for a minute, before immediately lightening, "Its. . .Its a ways from here, and if we were to walk the entire way, it would take us at least two months, if we moved quick. . .Half that if we can find ourselves some good horses." He looks up at a window as we pass through the house, seeming to take interest in the pale blue sky beyond, "But, I'm hoping that with any luck, we'll be able to catch a boat ride south of Tonvik. From there, it would be a straight, easy ride to Temal, and we won't have to cross through those stupid mountains," his face twists into a frown of distaste, "Nayru, I_ hate_ those mountains."  
  
This, of course, only serves to peak my curiosity, "What's so bad about the mountains?"  
  
His frown lightens, "Thieves, and lots of them. Its hard to get through without being ambushed, even with a horse. Very little cover, and it's rocky as hell. Easier to go around."  
  
I glance at him with a bit of humor in my eyes, "And aren't you a thief, too?"  
  
For one moment, I feel dread build up in my chest as his eyes narrow and go cold.  
  
For one moment, I swear that he's going to pull up his guise and ignore me.  
  
Or worse, yell at me.  
  
But surprisingly, after that one moment, he turns again, his eyes filled with the same humor I had on moments ago, "Yeah, but these guys. . ." He shakes his head, and the short lived humor is gone, "These guys are _real_ serious. I try_ not_ to hurt people, unless it is in the job description, but. . .I ran into them once. . ." He lowers his cowl even further down, and pulls at the tight neck of his uniform to reveal a scar, traveling down the top of his shoulder, down somewhere farther. I wonder vaguely how I did not notice it before.  
  
"They mean business. . .I was just a kid, and the only reason I made it is because of the other Sheikah that were around. . ." He gives his head another shake, as if to dispel some bad memories. I wouldn't blame him, I know exactly what its like, "Anyway, its best to just go around. Takes less time, too, though it is more costly. . ."  
  
"Costly? Like_ how_ costly?"  
  
"Oh, last time I checked. . .around five hundred rupees, a piece."  
  
"Sheik, how are we going to get a _thousand_ rupees?"  
  
He shrugs as we pass through the last door, and outside, "Oh, well, Tonvik is a bit small, but its also more dirty than other towns. . .We could pick up a few jobs, make some money. . ." His eyes narrow dangerously, "Actually, I have a. . .friend there in Tonvik who owes me some. . . money, words, whatever."  
  
"Oh," I reply, watching as Sheik's face falls back behind a mask of neutrality. He nods, his eyes distant as we continue across the gray grass, looking for all the world like it is long dead.  
  
"Don't worry about money. . .I got us covered there," he raises his right hand, grasping the lip of his cowl and deftly pulling it up and over the tip of his noise, his crimson eyes peering out above it, "Leona gave us a good three hundred rupees, and another seven hundred won't be too hard to get. . .Come on, lets get out of here. . .This place is giving me the creeps. . ."  
  
I nod in agreement, turning around and giving the house one last look. . .It seems so. . .fragile, frail, as if the slightest wind could blow this elegant home over the cliff. . .  
  
I wonder. . .Will I ever see this place again?  
  
. . . Only Time will tell.  
  
----------  
  
"Geez. . .What's up with this place?" I ask, taking a few steps forward into the darkness. . . Its been four uneventful days of miserable weather, and now at last we are at the mountain pass that will lead us toward Tonvik. That would be all nice and fine and all. . .  
  
Except that this mountain pass goes_ through_ the mountain.  
  
Sheik, of course, forgot to bring torches (something for which he apologized, his face a little red. I just laughed, which only served to earn me a good bruise to my shoulder), which means that we have to walk into this pitch black abyss with no light whatsoever. . .  
  
[_Well, at least with your eyes you'll be able to see. . ._] I frown at the thought, and take another step farther in, Sheik close behind me.  
  
These last few days, he's been acting a little. . .odd. He's been a bit more quiet and withdrawn, and occasionally I see a sad, darker emotion pass before his eyes. I know that this has something to do with what Leona told us, but. . .  
  
If Sheik's mad, why hasn't he ignored me?  
  
Or yelled at me?  
  
. . .  
  
Or whatever it is that would make him happy?. . .If he wanted to, you know, um, _kill _me. . .I'd be fine with that. . .If it made him happy. . .Its not like I really have anything left to do. Life is, well. . .I don't think I have anything left to do, now. . .Maybe kill Baal, but that's about it, really. . .Ganondorf is dead (finally), as is Diablo, and Mephisto, even if only for a Time. . .Tyrael, well, he's none of my concern (unless he decides to play Hunt-the-Link). . .  
  
Man, my life has come to almost a complete standstill. . .I don't think there is anything left for me to do, anymore. . .  
  
"Well, since we don't have any torches we'll have to go slow. . .Damn, I wish I remembered to bring some. . .Its tricky footing in there, and there's sometimes monsters. . .Usually there's a few guards here, but-" Sheik takes a quick glance all around near the entrance of the large cavern, "-I don't see anyone at all. . ."  
  
Hmm. . .The thought strikes me suddenly, swiftly. Should I, or shouldn't I? That is indeed the question. A light smirk comes to my lips, and I raise a hand, watching as Sheik stares curiously at my 'gesture'.  
  
"Link, what are you-"  
  
It's hard, to say the least. . .I haven't done this in a while. . .Not since I fought Sheik, and it seems that in that Time, my skills were beginning to rust over again. . .I try hard to concentrate, focus my will on that tiny space of air above my hand-  
  
There's a sudden flash, and that tiny space bursts into flames. Sheik gives a very un-Sheikah yelp, taking a quick jump backward. Ignoring the single bead of sweat traveling down my brow, or the way I can already feel my hair wanting to plaster to my head, I laugh.  
  
"What the?" I hear Sheik asks, and I look to see him staring at the orb of fire that dances above my palm with a hint of familiarity and curiosity, ". . .You used that on me when we first fought, didn't you?" I shrug and nod, and his eyes narrow, but not in anger, "Damn, I forgot all about that. . .How the hell can you use magic?"  
  
I chuckle, using a bit of my energy to force the ball of fire up and away from my palm, instead focusing above my head. Sheik, I notice, watches with amazement as the orb moves on its own, "It was taught to me, a long Time ago. . .I was still a kid. Didn't I mention it to you?"  
  
"No," Sheik answers, eyes still on the magic, "You were rather vague at points."  
  
I shrug, "Guess I didn't see much point. . .I mean, it doesn't change anything, does it?"  
  
Sheik pauses then shakes his head, ". . .Nothing at all. . .Though, I am curious," he continues as we begin to move deeper into the cave, "how many other tricks to you have?"  
  
"Not many. . .I used to have more, but now I have, um, let's see. . .I've got this spell, which used to be a lot stronger, but no this is almost all I can do with it. . .Oh, and I've got a spell which lights arrows on fire - kinda useless, when you think about it, but at Times it can be handy - and I've also got this really nifty spell that lets me split an arrow into two separate ones!. . .That one, though, is really confusing. . .I actually have to split the arrow with my mind, and then make the other two sides from magic-"  
  
"You said that the magic used to be stronger when you were younger. . .? How much stronger? Why has it weakened?"  
  
I shrug, "It used to be like, a big dome of fire. . .Now its only that tiny little ball. . .I don't know why it got so weak, it just did. . .It was significantly weaker when I first came to Sanctuary, but after I was freed. . ." I hesitate slightly, feeling my chest constrict a little at the thought of recent events, ". . .After I was freed, well, it was a helluva lot weaker."  
  
Sheik doesn't say anything, but I can almost imagine what he's thinking. . .I raise a hand to wipe the sweat off of my forehead, vaguely disturbed by just how much this is taking out of me. I'm sure that I can keep it up for a while yet, but still. . .  
  
We follow the cave for about a mile, before suddenly coming to an intersection. . .Sheik instantly motions for us to go right, and without saying anything I follow. . .We're walking side by side now, for good reasons. . .I'm the one with the light, and Sheik knows the way.  
  
At the next turn, its left. . .I let my mind wander from where we're headed, and instead focus on the scenery. . .Not that there is much. Dark brown walls, pillars of rock jutting up from the ground or down from the roof, plenty of shadows. . .The far off drip of water. . .

_The stillness in this invisible room leaves me thinking that I'm alone in here, but I have a feeling I'm not. . ._

Drip.

_At the sound, five torches lit all around me. Two behind me, one on each side of the door. Another two, one on my left, the other on my right. And finally the one directly in front of me, the fifth one, slowest of them all to act, flickered to life. Though they were lit, it took seemingly an eternity for them to reveal the insides of the room, their light slowly stretching across the floor. Suddenly, though the light is far too dim to make out anything, all five torches flash as one, and the room fills with and orange yellow light. _

_. . .Revealing to me the three bodies of my companions. And unlike the goat man I found earlier, there's blood. Lots. _

_Seifer, his body broken and bloody. Flesh torn and open, revealing the still bleeding wounds for all eyes to see. His one remaining hand (the other is no where in sight, leaving only the shredded socket) reaches out for Quistis' corpse, several feet away from him. The bottom left side of his face has been devoured by something, leaving the bone peering from the wound. Both his eyes have been removed by sharp objects, like claws or knives. One is completely gone, while the other rests in the curvature of his neck, it's nerves and blood vessels still attached. The dead eye almost seems to stare at me from it's comfortable position on the collar of his 'new' white trench coat, which is now bloody and still damp._

_Zell rests less than five feet to his right, laying on his stomach. Only the back of his body is visible, except for one side of his face, which has had all the skin carefully pealed away from it, showing the network of nerves and veins and arteries and muscles. In the middle of his back, there is a large hole that continues right through to the other side. It looks like a sword injury, like he was impaled on one. His left leg is badly scored and covered in blood. It's almost unidentifiable as a leg now. It's more of a bloody stump._

_Quistis is closer to Seifer than Zell, and she's laying in a large offering bowl, filled to the brim with blood. The bowl sits upon a podium, giving it a leverage of four to five feet off the ground. Some of it is hers, some of it belongs to others, but no matter who's it is, it's dying the color of her clothing with the thick liquid. She's on her back, head and legs hang over the edges of the podium, limp. Her throat's been completely torn from her neck, and her skin bathes in it's own blood. Her wrists have been violently slit, and there's a hole going from one of her temples through to the other, looking like someone skewered her with something small and sharp. Her hair hangs over the edge of the bowl and dangles above the floor. _

Drip. . .

_Another drop of blood drips from her hair to the floor. The noise of it bursting upon impact is magnified by the stone walls, seeming loud and ominous. _

_I stare in horror at them (I've seen so much death before but it's always so much_ worse _when it's someone you know), and I float back a little. My mouth agape, it's all I can do to just stand there and try to comprehend what I'm seeing. A small part of me (a part that always makes itself so well known during death) screams that this is just a joke, they're alright and they're just trying to get a reaction out of me. But the rest of me knows the truth. This is too real to be a lie._

Drip. . .

"Link, you alright?" Sheik's voice pulls me back from my thoughts, and I look at him, trying to remain nonchalant, "You look a bit pale. . ."  
  
"I'm fine," I reply, raising a hand to again clean my forehead of the sweat that's really starting to accumulate. . .I can already feel my energy starting to drain, and we've only been walking for what, ten, fifteen minutes?  
  
[_Could be worse. . .Could have no torch._]  
  
"You're sure?" Sheik asks, and I nod. At the gesture he seems a little relieved, but I can tell that from the corner of his eye, he is still watching me. . .He's worried, whether for me or for himself, I can't be sure but still. . .  
  
It's still reassuring. . .  
  
"So," I begin, trying to find a way to divert Sheik's attention away from the topic, ". . .Just what kind of monsters are there in here?"  
  
He looks at me, amused, "What? Is the Hero of Time_ afraid_ of some little monsters?" He laughs, lightly.  
  
I do my best to look like my pride has been wounded, "Me? Afraid?" I grin broadly, "I didn't get the Triforce of Courage for nothing, you know!"  
  
Sheik chuckles for a moment longer, before finally answering the question, "Oh, relax. . .Well, let's see. . .There are small little goblin creatures, rat things. . .Some kind of slug fish monster that looks really, really disgusting-"  
  
"Sheik do you-"  
  
"-Then there are those stupid bats-"  
  
"Sheik, _listen_-"  
  
"Oh, and those-"  
  
"SHEIK! _Listen_, for a minute!" There's a sudden, abrupt silence and nothing in the entire cave seems to make a move to change that, "Listen. . .Do you hear that?"  
  
More silence, and then Sheik seems to attempt a joke on some pretty shaky ground, "Hear what? Now I think your hearing's messing up. . ." He turns around, gesturing to the entire cave around us, and I follow him with my eyes, "There's nothing around us for miles-!" His eyes go wide, looking at something behind me. I whip about and come face to face with the biggest, ugliest sets of red eyes I have ever seen.  
  
Goddesses. . .I _hate_ spiders. . .  
  
--------  
  
_A/N : Done early to make up for the lateness on last week's chapter. . .Yes, a general lack of action, and Sheik's acting odd. . .He's got reasons, one of those being that he is a very odd Sheikah, but there's more. . .All shall be revealed. . .  
  
I hope this chapter was okay (I thought it was alright), and if anyone finds any mistakes, feel free to point them out and laugh. Yes, har har har.  
  
Anyways, I think that's it. . .Next chapter will be much longer, and have two separate action scenes, so I think someone's going to be happy about that. . ._

_This chapter is more of an insight into Link's thoughts. . .The way Sheik thinks will be revealed better next chapter, as I can guarentee you that he is not just suddenly okay with all this. . .  
  
Gods. . .I've been playing too much SimCity. . .Someone shoot me. . .  
  
Please, review! _


	53. Chapter LII Hello, Hero

**Trial of a Man**  
  
_Chapter LII - Hello, Hero_  
  
----------  
  
"I'm you! I'm your shadow!"

-Liquid Snake, Metal Gear Solid 1 : Twin Snakes

---------

That has to be the goddamn ugliest spider I have ever seen in my entire six hundred year life. Okay, so I admit, I've never been fond of bugs - Gohma did not help with that little phobia, which only increased during my Time in Sanctuary - but this thing really takes the fricken cake.  
  
Standing about ten feet tall on its eight legs, the thing is giant. Dark black in color with sections of a lighter grey, it blends in well with the inky darkness behind it. Long hairs cover its body in sparse proportions, giving it a rather bristly appearance.  
  
Eight red beady eyes stare out blankly, but I know that it can see us. Its mandibles are gaping wide, sharp and obviously deadly points just ready to gnaw on our flesh. The creature proves this, gnashing its jaws at us as it moves in, thick legs picking their way carefully over the rocks, slow but steady.  
  
Before I can even think about it, the Hellplague is in my hands - releasing its usual comforting warmth - and I fall into a battle stance, ready for my opponent.  
  
Sheik, I can see from the corners of my eyes, is also ready for battle, his twin daggers ready. There's a hint of something (anger?) in his eyes, but he seems to keep it hidden, controlled. Before I can think more on the matter, the spider suddenly charges at me, moving surprisingly fast for its size.  
  
I easily side step its attack, slashing at its legs as I turn. The spider seems to be unsure of its movements, almost lazy with them, as if unused to such combat. It wouldn't surprise me though, if it was surprised to actually find us here. When it attacked me, its movements were slow as it dipped down and tried to bite me, slow and a bit jerky.  
  
My blade, though it does hit its target, does almost nothing. Not even the hairs on it's leg are cut, and where the sword came in contact with its flesh, there are a few cuts. Not deep, though, no blood is drawn. I ready my sword and strike again.  
  
Again I hit the spider with the Hellplague, but this Time aiming at the already cut flesh, widening the wound. There is no real reaction for the first cut, the second or the third, but some Time after that the blade manages to slice the more fragile inside of the creature, and it screeches loudly. I step back in surprise, trying to cover my ears (making sure not to drop my sword).  
  
The thing abruptly stops its screaming, flinging one of its legs at me. Unlike all of its other movements, this is swift and precise, and I have no chance as the heavy limb suddenly smashes into me, throwing me back with a choked cry. The stiff bristles jab my face as the brief contact is made, and the touch stings. I go flying backward, sailing through the air before smashing hard against the stone wall behind me. Pain erupts through my back and face, twisting and searingly hot, and suddenly everything goes numb.

I slouch against the rock, my vision dimming for a brief moment as my head swims. I think I can still hear Sheik fighting (if the various grunts and shuffling noises I hear aren't just the product of my fuzzy head) and I wish to get up and join him, but it is a long moment before I can stumble to my feet, muscles protesting against the movement. Almost lazily, with the help of the wall behind me, I stand upright, Hellplague still clutched tightly in one hand, breath short and ragged.  
  
My left eye refuses to open, and my right will only widen to a sliver. There is something hot against my face, and I gingerly raise a hand to see that it is blood, as I had feared. I stare at my hand blankly for a full minute before a hard thud catches my attention, and I raise my heavy eyes back to the battle.  
  
The thud seems to have come from when the spider attempted to hit Sheik, missed, and instead slammed its leg hard against the ground. Between the enemy's attacks my friend is expertly dodging, moving fluidly as he continues to try and slash the thing. He's having about as much success as I did - which is to say almost none - but at least he's not getting hit. As he ducks under one of the approaching limbs of the spider, he glances up at me. I nod my head (feeling dizzy as I do so).  
  
"I'm. . .alright," I say, though to me it sounds more like a mumble. He nods as well, before leaping away from yet another attempt by the spider. It seems to be completely distracted by Sheik, and I wonder if I can somehow use this to my advantage.  
  
The opportunity quickly arises and passes as Sheik slashes the thing several Times, before suddenly spinning about (the spider is fervently trying to squash him or bite him or something) and reaching down to his belt. Quicker than I can see, he whips out one of his small daggers and throws it at the spider, the small blade flying through the air and striking one of the creature's far right eyes with a sickening squish noise.  
  
The spider rears back partially, moving into a more defensive position as it again wails in agony. I raise my hands to block my ears, but before I can, Sheik is suddenly beside me, grabbing my arm and pulling me down the hall with him.  
  
He moves blindingly fast, dragging me as I stumble wildly behind him. Moving deftly over rocks and crevices that my mind is too tired to even notice till it is too late, Sheik continues forward. I have a feeling that he could move faster if he wanted too, but I think that he might be slowing down just for my benefit. My back is aching again where it hit the wall, and my face - the right side of my forehead - tingles where the hairs pierced the skin. Absently, I wish for a mirror as we continue on, just so that I could see how bad the wound is.  
  
After what seems like an eternity of running, we suddenly come to an abrupt halt, Sheik pulling me slowly into an alcove in the rocks. I follow mindlessly, brain still a bit fuzzy, and he pushes me down to the ground, gently. I take a seat, and he kneels beside me wordlessly.  
  
The light of Din's Fire is almost flickering its last above my head, I notice dully as Sheik's fingers gently prod the side of my head. My eyes are more open now, my back a little better since I'm sitting, and for a moment I actually almost fall asleep in the warm atmosphere of this cave, the dangers of the spider long forgotten.  
  
Sheik's noise of frustrated concern is what brings me back from oblivion, and I look up at him, into his crimsons eyes. In the orange light of the spell, his skin seems to almost have a strange tan, and I can see the sweat gleaming on his face, only enhancing that bizarre look. He meets my eyes, and I see something unrecognizable there. . .Several conflicting emotions, maybe?  
  
". . .what?" I ask, my voice a bit hazy. Sleep is still pulling at my eyes, but I refuse, waiting for Sheik's answer, at the very least.  
  
----------  
  
I glance down at him, noticing the way he seems to almost be on the verge of sleep. I don't know if it is a bad sign, but I have a feeling that it may be, "Well. . .How are you feeling?"  
  
He blinks with confusion, his movements a bit slower than I would like, ". . .'lright, I guess, why?" I raise one hand to push aside the hair that is falling in front of my eyes with a sigh.  
  
"You don't seem to be poisoned, but. . ." I raise my hand in front of his face by about six inches, lifting a finger, "Follow with your eyes, alright?" He gives a light nod which seems to make him dizzy - [_Not good, _not_ good. . ._] - and obeys dutifully, and I watch, a sinking feeling in my stomach as his eyes can't seem to keep up with my finger, unfocused and a bit hazy. Inwardly, I curse my luck, and sit back on my heels.  
  
Blood is covering almost the entire right side of his face, drenching it almost completely. It is beginning to drip down the side of his neck, and almost absently I reach down there with a bandage, and wipe it clean. Link hardly seems to notice, though I do realize - with a bit of hope rising in my chest - that he is paying more attention than earlier. Normally, I wouldn't be too worried about such a development - if he was tired, or dizzy, we could just rest - but since we have that spider after us. . .  
  
It isn't long before I've cleaned off the entire side of his face, revealing the wound. Several deep piercings into his flesh, and the skin around those holes is also slightly scarred. From the looks of it, I easily realize that it was the long hairs on the spider's legs that cut him like this.  
  
Now with the wound revealed, I again check for poison - there is none, and I am definitely relieved. I have heard about spiders (normal sized ones) often being poisonous, and when I saw Link stumbling, hesitant. . .  
  
Again I raise my hand to his face, while the other begins bandaging the flesh there. Since I have no adhesive, I have to wrap the strip all the way around his head, but I worry that if I don't he will become infected. Trying to distract him from any pain I cause (I can see him wince every time I touch the wound) I hold up some fingers.  
  
"How many do you see?"  
  
For a long minute he stares, and just as I am about to ask him again, he looks up from my hand to my face, "Two. . .?" It is an uncertain answer, but good enough for me. I smile, lowering my hand and finishing the last of the bandaging. It is good to see that his eyes are opening properly again. With any luck, we may be out of here soon.  
  
Once I am done, I stand up and offer Link a hand. He takes it, and with a little help from the wall, he is soon on his feet again, only a bit unsteady. In one hand he still has that sword of his, but after a glance from me, he is putting it away, attempting to be rather casual at doing so.  
  
I think he realizes that I know something is going on.  
  
As we walk - I don't think Link should run anytime soon - I notice that he is indeed recovering at a good pace. His first few steps were slow and a little lax, but now he is moving quicker, more confidently. I think that he was probably just stunned when he was hit (or so the more hopeful side of me wishes) and that its rapidly wearing off.  
  
Maybe I shouldn't be so happy he's okay. The fact that he is a demon, or at least becoming one has not been forgotten. I still remember almost exactly what Leona said to us, and it has been the focus of my thoughts recently. Some part of me (the more efficient, Sheikan side) wants me to do what is right, to kill him and save lives. . .But I've always been a relaxed, more casual individual - cold, maybe, but never downright emotionless (though, really I should be).  
  
I _should _kill him. . .  
  
. . .But I _can't_.  
  
I wonder vaguely whether my reluctance has something to do with the fact that he is a Demon. . . Maybe it is some kind of protection thing, to sway those who would think of killing a Demon before it was ready?  
  
[_Or maybe its just because he is your friend?_]  
  
I glance at said friend, taking in his appearance. He is obviously doing much better now. The bandage on his forehead has a bit of red showing through where the blood has soaked in, but at least now it won't get infected. His eyes are open again, though one is slightly narrowed. Not in hate, or anger, or anything. . .I guess it is just because it is on the same side that was wounded. Once we get to town, I'll take him in to see a medic, just to make sure.  
  
Link notices my gaze, and gives me a bit of a cheery smile - he still looks tired, but at least now he isn't falling asleep anymore. We may not be moving fast, but with each step we take we get (hopefully) farther away from that damn spider.  
  
I don't think we can take that thing. . .It is strong. . .and I don't want to chance it. If we can run from the battle, then I'm going to try. With Link as tired as he is, I don't want to risk anything that could get us killed.  
  
I just hope that by letting him live, I am not making a mistake. . .  
  
----------  
  
_"You hurting?"_  
  
I glance over to my right quickly, only to see Malon walking beside me, stride for stride, "Wha-?" I cover up my question (and stupidity) with a forced cough, Sheik turns around at my almost question, but cocks an eyebrow when I grin sheepishly at him. As soon as my friend isn't looking, I turn to face Malon, glaring at her, [_What are you doing here? I was starting to enjoy the silence._]  
  
She rolls her eyes at me, "_Of course there was silence, its not like you have anything in your head to think with, anyway."_ I glare harder at her, though her words do not really insult me. After a moment of quiet, I turn my head away from her, and instead watch the back of Sheik in front of me. Eventually, she sighs, and starts again.  
  
_"So, are you hurt?"_ I narrow my eyes at her unusual concern.  
  
[_Not really. . .It still stings, and my back's a bit sore, but that's it. Why the hell are you asking me anyway? Are you_ that _bored?_]  
  
_"I'm only as bored as you are, Link,"_ she smiles, almost seductively, and though I know that this is just an illusion and a rather sinister one at that, I feel the pang of loneliness ache in my heart, _"I'm just wasting time, is all."_  
  
Now it is my turn to roll my eyes at her, [_Just leave me alone, alright? I am not in the mood to talk to you. Get lost._]  
  
_"You're upset, aren't you?"_ She asks, her voice suddenly falling into a much more tender, caring tone. I am just about to question her when she continues, _"You're worried. . .afraid. . .He tried already, you know. . .Tried to stab you in your sleep. . ."  
_  
My glare turns absolutely murderous, [_He. . .He did not!_]  
  
She smiles, closing her eyes and bowing her head slightly, her pose knowing, sorrowful_,"Stop denying it, he hates you. . .He just wants to kill you. He did try to stab you, he did. He hates you, Demon."  
_  
[_That's a lie!_]  
  
_"Really? You know it, don't you? You can feel it, no matter how hard you try to deny it. . .He hates you, and he _will _kill you, Demon."  
_  
[_He wouldn't. . .didn't. . ._]  
  
_"What, Link?"_ Malon snarls, her eyes narrowed in pleasured hate, _"I can't hear you. Speak up."  
_  
[_I. . .I hate you. . ._] Bitting my lip, I turn my gaze away from Malon as she begins to fade away, her voice laughing evilly as she disappears. Instead, I turn my attention to my friend-  
  
[_Friend?. . .enemy. . .?_]  
  
A brief shake of my head dispels the unwanted thoughts, but the doubts remain. Does Sheik really hate me - the Demon in me - enough to kill me?. . .Did he really already try?  
  
[_Of course not. . .Malon was just making it up. How could she know, and you not?_]  
  
But what if. . .?  
  
. . .If Sheik were to hate me so bad that he would kill me, just because of what I could become, then why would he be traveling with me? Or, is this some kind of trick? Maybe. . .Maybe he wants to wait until I'm relaxed, unsuspecting, and then stab me in my sleep?  
  
[_No, Sheik would never. . ._]  
  
. . .Or would he?  
  
"Hey, Link, are you alright?" My gaze snaps upward to Sheik's face, his cowl down, worry evident. I nod mutely, trying to bring about a grin. . .It doesn't work, and I see a bit of confusion cloud his eyes. Soon enough, they clear up, and he continues.  
  
"We're getting close now. Just a bit farther, and we'll be out," he looks down the dark hallways ahead of use with something like distaste, "I doubt that spider will attempt to follow us, not out into the sunlight, but I'd still like to make some distance before we stop." I nod, then realizing that he can't see it, I speak instead.  
  
"Yeah. . .I don't want to run into that thing again," One of my hands reaches up to gingerly touch my wounded forehead, and I wince at the pain that suddenly lances through me.  
  
Sheik nods, still not facing me, "We should be out in about an hour, at this pace. . .Sorry for making you run earlier, but, well. . ." He turns around, eyes lingering on my bandaged head, "I just didn't want to chance it."  
  
I nod, "I'm glad you rushed me - I don't think I would have been able to do it myself," I smile, glad to see Sheik a bit. . .well, not out to get me, as I had feared. Maybe it was just Malon trying to scare me-  
  
"Well, come on," Sheik begins walking again, and after a brief hesitation, I run after him, trying to catch up, "Not much farther."  
  
Above my head, Din's Fire is again burning bright, now that I'm feeling a lot better. Its enough to light our way, though I would prefer to be out in the sun right about now, instead of in this dark, damp cave. But, I guess you can't have everything.  
  
The path we're on suddenly widens, the hall becoming a large open cavern. Its hard to see, as the range of Din's Fire isn't great, and without thinking, I mutter something that even I don't understand. Sheik seems surprised at the sudden, foreign words, but before I even have a chance to voice my own surprise, there is a sudden, violent flash of light - very painful to my now sensitive eyes - and then, nothing.  
  
My eyes open, seeing nothing at first, but after several seconds of blinking, I am able to make out the inside of the cave. My vision rapidly clears, though my eyes still hurt, and it isn't long before I realize just how much brighter it is in here. Immediately my eyes look up to the ceiling of this cave, and immediately up there, I can see the brightly shining form of Din's Fire, much more brilliant than its ever been before. I'm about to wonder out loud but stop as soon as I notice the powerful, draining sensation in my body. . .For one brief second, the complete dizziness I experienced earlier overwhelms me, and my knees buckle.  
  
Any doubts I had before about Sheik's thoughts are banished - if only briefly - as suddenly his hands are under my arms, supporting me. . .I hang there, limply, for a moment, before twisting my neck around to stare at him. He smiles at me, almost sheepishly.  
  
"You alright?" he asks. I take a moment, glancing down at the floor, before replying-  
  
"Yeah. . .sorry. . .It took more out of me than I thought."  
  
"How did you do that, anyway?" Sheik looks vaguely surprised as he lowers me to the floor. I take a seat and wait for my energy to return.  
  
"I don't know. . ." There's a sudden flash of suspicion behind his eyes, and I find panic flooding me, "I-I don't know! I just. . .I just guessed-!"  
  
His eyes soften slowly, looking at me almost with pity, "It's. . .it's alright. Link, I. . .I need you to promise me something," he says slowly, and I nod fervently. Anything to make Sheik happy. . .Not angry with me.  
  
"Anything, Sheik, just name it and-"  
  
"I need you to promise me that you won't give in, not matter what," his eyes are dead serious, hard as ice, and any question as to what he's talking about immediately vanishes, "You must promise me that, Link. . .No matter what."  
  
I look at him, taken aback by his serious tone, ". . .Of course, Sheik. . .I promise. . ." Did he think that I would. . .?  
  
He nods once, still serious, but his eyes soften a little. I can't help but sigh ever so lightly in relief. He walks a few steps away from me, turning his back, and I feel that relief that came to me only seconds ago just disappear at the expression on his face.  
  
Cold, hard, calculating, and yet. . .Unwilling.  
  
I sigh, and place my hands against the ground, forcing myself to my feet. The initial shock is gone, and though I can still feel my energy depleting, it isn't quite as bad. I think I can deal with this. . .besides, as soon as we find the exit to this cavern and continue on our way, the sooner I can switch (if I can figure out how) back to the other Din's Fire.  
  
My feet are surprisingly steady, and I stand with ease, looking around. This cave is much like the halls we have traveled to get this far, the ground broken and uneven. There are piles of stones here and there, and the occasion large boulder. The ceiling has a round, almost bowl like shape, and off in the distance I can still hear the sound of dripping water.  
  
Din's Fire may be lighting up this place pretty good, but there are still plenty of shadows. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sheik walk off toward these shadows, probably to look for the exit. This seems like a pretty good idea to me, and so I do the same, just in the opposite direction.  
  
Everything just seems so. . .I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. Everything seems just so pointless right now. . .I can tell now for sure that Sheik isn't positive on what to make of me, his earlier statements confirming my thoughts, but. . .Did he really think that I would just give up? Just give in to something. . .Something that is just as bad as Diablo, or Mephisto? Did he really think that I would willing become that which I have fought? Nearly died against?  
  
Or maybe in the end I won't have a choice. . .  
  
Will I be forced to become a Demon?  
  
Will I end up destroying everything I care for?  
  
. . .Will I end up killing Sheik?  
  
I clench my eyes shut at the image that appears in my mind - [bloody, lying there, body broken and mangled and in a pool of blood and its all your fault] - Would I do that. . .? Will I give in, and end up killing my best friend, the only person in my entire life that I could call family?. . .Sheik is. . .Sheik's like a brother to me. . .Would I become so heartless as to kill him?  
  
I couldn't become that evil, could I?  
  
I shake my head, the gesture causing my hair to sway wildly, [Of course I wouldn't. . .I'm stronger than that. . .Aren't I?]  
  
Again the image of a dead Sheik. . .Body run through, eyes wide open with shock, glazed over from death and his mouth open in a silent O of surprise and-  
  
A strange, almost out of place noise hits my ears, and causes my to jerk my head upward in hope to see the source. As I glance around I see nothing that could have made the almost hissing noise, but now that I think of it. . .Something doesn't feel right. . .  
  
"Hey!. . .What the hell?" I can hear Sheik's voice from the other side of the room, and I turn to look and gasp in surprise as I see white mist emerging from seemingly nothingness. . .Just appearing and spreading across the ground. Sheik's staring down at the stuff, his daggers out and suddenly he's glancing around for something.  
  
**"Hello, Hero."**  
  
I spin about at the hissing voice whispering in my ear, turning around to find nothingness. At my movements, someone laughs, their voice dark and foreboding and terribly familiar.  
  
**"Miss me?"**  
  
More of that laughter, hot and burning, bubbling over with malice and hate. I whip around again, and encounter nothing more than the rising mist. . .Why does this seem so familiar?. . .  
  
Sheik's stopped and is looking toward me now, shock on his face. I am just about to ask him what's wrong when without warning the mist in front of me opens up, showing again the rock beneath. In there the shadows suddenly rise and gain form, shifting and growing until. . .  
  
My eyes narrow, "You."  
  
Dark Link's mouth widens to a grin, **"Happy to see me?"**  
  
Sheik quickly steps forward, moving around Dark Link as best as he can till he's beside me. I guess its for the best. . .If I remember anything about Dark Link it is that he is a great fighter and that for him to be able to separate the two of us could mean serious injuries, or worse.  
  
"What is he?" Sheik whispers into my ear. I shake my head.  
  
"I. . .I'm not quite sure. . .I've fought him before-"  
  
"And?"  
  
"-We'll have to be very careful, he's really strong and-"  
  
**"Dearest brother,"** the word makes me jerk back with surprise, staring at my. . .evil twin or whatever in confusion, **"What happened to your head?. . .Oh, and don't think I can't hear a word of what you're saying. . .I can hear it all."** Dark Link smiles, and I take a better look at his appearance, trying to understand just what he is. He looks exactly like me - or at least how I used to, seeing as he's got a hat like a used to and is wearing a tunic and even has a blackened Master Sword - except that his entire appearance is an inky black. Everything, from his clothing to his skin is dark, except his eyes, which glow a blood red.  
  
"You. . .You're supposed to-" I begin, having a hard Time forming the words. Dark Link interrupts me quickly, his voice silky and bizarrely gentle, as if talking to a child.  
  
**"-Be dead?"** He laughs then, the sound both somewhat normal, but with an undertone of madness that makes my skin crawl, **"Do you not remember what I told you, little brother? I said I'd be back, and now, here I am."  
**  
"Why do you keep calling me that?. . .Brother, I mean?"  
  
The look in the pupiless, red abyss that is Dark Link's eyes is definitely amusement. . .Though I fail to see what's so funny about this. His eyes would look a lot like Leona's, if it weren't for the fact that though she does have no pupils, the iris itself is red. My 'brother's' on the other hand are completely glowing with their crimson color.  
  
**"I call you that because that is what you are! Is it that complicated for you, brother?"  
**  
My eyes narrow further.  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
His eyes narrow as well, but the amusement does not leave them.  
  
**"To see_ you,_ Hero."**  
  
Before I have Time to properly register the movement, Dark Link (who has somehow managed to creep right up to me) draws his sword and slashes, and I am barely able to raise my sword to block. He is surprisingly strong, and I find myself fighting not to stumble backward.  
  
I hear the sound of Sheik drawing his daggers, but as he moves to strike, Dark Link suddenly withdraws his attack against me, spinning to meet the Sheikah. In movements too quick for me to even think of interfering, my brother blocks Sheik's attacks, and then whirls about, sending his heel into my friend's head.  
  
As Sheik goes flying, I regain my wits and raise the Hellplauge in an attempt to attack. It doesn't work, as my evil counterpart simply turns and meets the attack, blocking it successfully. I quickly release, and try again from a different angle, but again am unsuccessful.  
  
He pushes hard against my blade, and this Time I do stumble, tripping over backward and landing hard on my butt. He snickers before suddenly reach up high with one hand, straining, his eyes upward. I follow his gaze to find his focus on Din's Fire, and he chants a few words through parted lips.  
  
The spell flickers, and fades till the room is fairly dark again.  
  
I look back down glancing at Dark Link but changing my gaze quickly to Sheik. He's quickly getting to his feet, and reaching for some of those tiny throwing knives of his. I smile briefly, before getting back to my feet.  
  
Before I am even fully upright, Dark Link is charging at me, a malicious gleam in his eyes, it's all I can do block his attacks, unable to gain the speed needed to counter attack. He looks like he's having fun, slowly driving me backward and most likely into a corner (and knowing my luck, I will just manage to find some perfect, jutting, pointy rock to trip over) but when I see Sheik slowly raising one of his hands, I have to force back a smile.  
  
This might just turn right around.  
  
I meet yet another one of Dark Link's attacks, blocking it will all my strength. Sweat beads down the side of my face slowly, and when I look up at my opponent, I am not surprised to see him grinning, in perfect shape. He reaches forward, around the sword, grabbing my collar and whispering:  
  
**"None of your tricks will work, this time. . ."**  
  
He snickers, and suddenly he whips me around in front of him, across from Sheik, and there is a bright, stinging sensation of pain in my collar. Dark Link is holding me against him like a shield, his hand (complete with sword) at my neck, his other across my chest. Blinking away the sudden dots in front of my eyes, I chance a look downward.  
  
Embedded in the flesh of my shoulder is a small metal object - hard to tell what it is, as all that is outside of the wound is a tiny cylindrical of metal - which I guess is one of Sheik's knives. I look up at my friend's look of horror.  
  
**"Nice try Sheikah,"** Dark Link's hissing voice murmurs from behind me, his arms holding me against him tightly, **"But you are not going to interfere with thisss."** Suddenly, the mist forms a deeper circle around our feet, before suddenly rising, engulfing everything.  
  
----------  
  
I watch as that black version of Link tightens his grip on my friend, and the mist gathers quickly around his feet. Suddenly, it rises, devouring them, and I can't help but take a step forward in concern, a gasp escaping my mouth.  
  
There's nothing I can do, though.  
  
The mist forms a hazy cloud where they stood, but nothing moves. After a minute of nothing, I again move forward, slowly, cautiously, approaching the mist. Once within range, I think first of swinging my daggers through it, or throwing one of my knives. If they are inside there, however, I might just end up hurting Link again. . .  
  
Instead, I take in a breath before leaping through, preparing for any impact.  
  
Nothing. I sail right through and land gracefully on the other side.  
  
Turning swiftly on my heels, I stare at the cloud of mist, which now descends to the floor, and remains at a foot deep level throughout the cave, but there is no sign of either Link.  
  
[_Where are they?_]  
  
----------  
  
My. . .brother releases his hold on me, and I stumble forward, somehow managing to keep my footing despite the fact that wherever it is that we are, there is_ no_ floor.  
  
[_Just. . .a white abyss. . ._]  
  
I turn about deftly, staring at him with a combination of hate and anger in my eyes. He just stands there, his arms crossed, grinning.  
  
**"Your Sheikah friend was interfering. How could we have a fair fight otherwise?"  
**  
"What did you do?" I snarl at him, worry over coming me. . .What happened? Where are we?  
  
. . .Where's Sheik?  
  
At the sound of my voice, his grin increases, **"That's more fitting of you. . .Anger, hatred-"  
**  
"_Shut up_! What did you do?"  
  
Again, still smiling, his eyes knowing and thoughtful and understanding, "**I have come to fight you, Hero,"** I am about to open my mouth to yell at him some more, but he continues, **"Do not worry about your friend. . .If you beat me, you will see him again."  
**  
I calm slightly, managing to hold back my anger, ". . .And if I lose?"  
  
The smile increases to an out and out grin, nearly splitting apart his face, **"Then I shall tear the Sheikah apart, piece by_ fucking_ piece."  
**  
My eyes narrow in a hateful frown, and I lunge at him, sword extended. He snickers at me, deftly dodging the attack by spinning in an almost dance-like manner. This only manages to anger me more. I whip about growling at him.  
  
**"There, that's more like it. . .Growl like the Demon you are!"  
**  
I lunge forward again, slashing, hacking - he manages to block it all, and when our blades cross in an x-like fashion, he moves in close, staring at me, that smug look on his face.  
  
**"Is the little Hero angry? Angry and hurt and its not going to stop, no. . ._You _are going to feel how _I_ felt!"  
**  
I pull quickly away from my position, ducking and rolling quickly, using the things that Sheik has taught me - and trying to remain calm. It isn't working much, but it is helping, and so I keep trying. Dark Link takes a stab at me as I move past him, but I come out of my dodge swinging my sword, and though he misses, I don't. My blade cuts deep into the flesh of his right arm (his sword arm) and just as it makes contact, the blade explodes into flame.  
  
Kinda. . .like how a gunblade would.  
  
Dark Link shrieks, and pulls back, and away, quickly tossing his sword to his other hand while his right arm pulls up into its sleeve. That grin is gone, replaced by pure hate and anger.  
  
**"That. . .That damn sword!"** His glowing red eyes narrow as he clutches his wound, **"DAMN YOU!"** He lunges at me again, but now he's using his worser hand, and I am able to swiftly dodge the clumsy stroke of the blade, whirling about and bringing my sword down his back. My head is fogged over by hate and anger and the passion of the fight, and suddenly I find myself constantly attacking him, and this Time it is him who is struggling to meet each attack.  
  
_Kill him! Kill him now!_  
  
The voice rings unexpectedly throughout my head, and in sudden realization I falter. I'm. . .It's happening again. . .My blood lust. . .I-  
  
Dark Link smiles at my movements, at my lowered sword and wide eyes and takes it all to his advantage, swiftly spinning around and gaining momentum. All I can do is leap backward, but still he's so fast, and I can feel the tip of the blade moving, cutting. . .slicing into me and opening a gash in my chest. Pain lances through my chest, stealing my breath.  
  
I fall backward, and land hard on my ass. Dark Link stares down at me with a grin on his face, and a bloody sword.  
  
**"_Pathetic_,"** he hisses, stepping forward, **"Pathetic pathetic pathetic-"  
**  
I chance a glance downward, and am not terribly surprised to see a laceration that extends across the width of my chest, up, just beneath the collar. My breathing is harsh, heavy, and with every breath I take the pain flares. . .Sheik's little knife seems to have worked its way in good, as even less of what I assume to be a little metal hilt is visible. I look back up.  
  
**"So weak so weak - Why didn't She_ choose_ me?!"** He hisses harshly, his voice venomous, **"Why didn't She choose me I'm not weak I could have done it yet here you are and you _continue_ to fail-"  
**  
"Who's 'She'?"  
  
Dark Link looks down at me, malice and hatred and disgust easily apparent, **"Farore, fool."  
**  
"Choose? What the hell do you mean?"  
  
**"For all of this! Why you? Why? I could have done it so easily but no, good little boy Link here gets to do all the dirty work while I get ignored and forced to guard that blasted piece, but little boy Link gets all the freedom he wants and much more than he deserves and still he continues to _whine_ and _complain_,"** the gleam in his eyes is completely murderous, **"But we'll soon change all that won't we? Yesss, that will change and I will succeed and I will-"  
**  
"Listen," I mumble, trying to make him stop. . .It's so confusing listening to him ramble, nothing makes sense, especially not the way he hisses it like that, almost under his breath like I'm not supposed to hear, "I don't know what the hell you're thinking-" I slide backward a bit, away from him as he moves toward me, but I don't get the chance to stand, "-but Farore didn't-"  
  
"**She did She did She did**! **She chose you, and ignored me! But I will change all that-"  
  
**"How?" I ask. Maybe there's some way to understand what he's trying to say. His sudden rambling and fast talking compared to his smoother, more collected speech of before is really beginning to confuse me-  
  
**"I will _devour _you, brother, and then we will become one. . .I will be unstoppable. . .Yes. . .We will win. . .I will win and I will show Her just how good I am!"** He raises his blade above his head, the tip pointed at me posed for a stabbing attack, but the Hellplague is still in my left hand, flat against the ground. I throw all my weight to my right, taking a swing at him as I go by with the clumsy maneuver.  
  
Clumsy though it may be, I do manage to dodge his attack, though I myself miss too. His eyes turn toward me, his blade following for yet another attempt, but I don't give him the chance, my feet lashing out and kicking into his legs. I hit the side of his knee with the bottom of my foot, and he immediately goes down with a brief cry (though not one of pain, but one of frustration).  
  
Instantly I am on my feet, Hellplague in my hands, bearing down upon him just as he was doing to me, only seconds ago, "Die!" My own voice comes out as a hiss, and he turns around, still on his knees but soon falling back down, upon his back.  
  
The Hellplague again flares as the blade pierces his chest, right into where his dark shriveled heart should be. He arches at the touch, his body convulsing. I tighten my grip as he screams, loudly, harshly, the sound burning my ears but I don't dare let got of my sword.  
  
Finally, he stops, for one terrible moment frozen in place, glowing eyes wide, and suddenly he falls back, limp to the ground. His body instantly begins loosing form, melting into an ink puddle on the ground of this white abyss. I breathe a sigh of relief, sagging against the sword and falling to my knees, leaning heavily.  
  
For a long moment, there is only my erratic breathing and the pain in my chest, but suddenly I see the pool my 'brother' left behind moving toward me, flowing. . .My breath catches in my throat and I pull back at this unexpected surprise, but before I can go anywhere the puddle expands and rises up, far above my head before falling. . .Consuming me.  
  
I scream.  
  
----------  
  
My eyes continue searching the mist, looking for either Link or his darker twin (I am really going to have to ask him about that, but first I have to find him) but I see nothing. I have shifted through the area several times, searching the mist to see if I can find them, but there is nothing. . .The mist isn't too deep, but if either one of them was lying, injured-  
  
There's a sudden, hacking sound, and abruptly a head of blonde hair raises itself above the rapidly decreasing mist, I let loose a breath I didn't realize I was holding.  
  
Link's holding his hand in front of his mouth, his eyes shut tightly in pain, coughing. His entire frame shakes with each wrenching cough, and I quickly move to his side, trying to help him up. He struggles against me briefly, before allowing my assistance.  
  
"Link, what happened? What's wrong?. . .Where is he?" I ask, raising my head for a brief glance about the cave. There's no sign of anything out of the ordinary. . .The mist is all but gone now. Link releases a exceptionally rough cough, and my attention immediately returns to him.  
  
"Don't. . .know," Link pulls his hand away from his mouth, and it isn't hard (or the least bit comforting) to notice the splatter of blood on his gloves, "I think I killed him. . .Not sure." I place my hand under his chin and jerk his face up in my direction. Link gives a squeak of protest, but doesn't fight further as I study his eyes.  
  
Distant, a bit unfocused.  
  
Instantly, I remember the throwing knife.  
  
With a gentle push, I gesture to Link to lay down. He does as I ask, laying down on his back with a wince of pain. Immediately my brow furrows into a frown, and I move my hand down to his chest.  
  
Immediately I notice the wound and the blood it leaks, not the knife I threw earlier. No, this is an actual sword wound, almost from shoulder to shoulder and right below the wound from my dagger. Bitting my lip, I wonder just how I am going to do this. The cut, though not deep, is bleeding fast enough that bandaging is an immediate concern, however. . .

I need to get that shirt off. . .And if the knife comes out before, it will bleed too quickly. . .However, if I try to take his shirt off with the knife still in there. . .

I sigh.

Only one way to find out.

I raise the bottom of his shirt up and over the cut, wincing as he groans when the knife tip brushes the cloth. My movements freeze, and I look up at his face for a sign to continue. His eyes are shut, closed tightly, his mouth partly open and his breath heavy.

I continue.

The knife has been slightly dislodged, but the blood that wells in the wound isn't too serious. . .Once I have gotten the shirt far enough away from his wounds I leave it, and get out the bandages from my pack. The wounds aren't serious. . .But if I don't bandage them just right. . .

First I wrap the cloth around the larger sword wound, cleaning out the small bits of gore and such that have already managed to gather, before wrapping it up completely. Link, his eyes open now, watches me, wincing with pain every time he has to move, but he does it without saying a complaint.

The knife is much harder to get out. It has sunk into the fragile flesh, and only a fraction of the hilt (which was already small enough) is visible. Luckily for me, there is a little eye hole loop on the back of this style of throwing daggers, making it easy to string them.

Or, in this case, pry them out.

I am careful to have extra bandages nearby as I pick out another one of my knives. Using its small, pointed tip, I poke it through the eye hole, and lever it out slowly, carefully. Link gasps in pain as I suddenly jerk the thing right out of the wound, but lays there patiently as I scramble to bandage up the four inch hole.

"Any other wounds?" I find myself asking. Link shakes his head.

"No. . .I'm fine. . ." I pull him to his feet (being somewhat gentle, as I don't want to hurt his wounds further) but he manages well on his own.

"I. . .I didn't mean to throw the knife at you, really," I say, feeling somewhat sheepish, "I was aiming for him but-"

"Yeah, it's alright. . .I understand. . ." Link interrupts, reaching down for his sword which lays on the ground. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the thing was _trying_ to look innocent. Link's back is turned, so I shoot the thing a glare, which immediately fades as he sheathes the thing and looks back at me.

"So. . .What happened to you two anyway? I mean, I was watching you, and you disappeared into that cloud of smoke-"

"Mist," Link corrects, eyes a bit distant. I continue anyway.

"-mist, and then suddenly you're gone! Where did you- no, don't go that way. I found the exit, it's over here - but where did you go? I checked the mist, I could find you. . .It's almost like you just. . .disappeared."

He blinks twice, in confusion, before answering, "I-I'm not sure where we went. . .It was strange. . .A white abyss. . ." his eyes narrow in a frown of concentration and thoughtfulness, "He fought with me there. . .Mumbled a lot too. . .He just suddenly seemed to snap, almost. Rambled about some lady. . .Farore, I think."

My eyes widen slightly, "Farore?"

He nods.

"Oh, I. . .I see." For some reason, I instantly decide not to tell Link about my meeting with Farore, which until now I have constantly managed to forget, or push aside. . .I don't understand why I don't want to talk about it, but it seems almost wrong. . .If I were to bring it up now, I'm sure Link would demand why I didn't say anything before. . .

Link nods, gaze locked on the ground, though I know he's staring right through it, "He sounded insane. . .And angry. . .Angry with 'She' choosing me over him. . .I don't understand it. He wasn't very clear about the whole mess. . .Choosing me for what, though? To be the Hero of Time?. . .If he wanted it so bad, he could have had it." Link winces suddenly, raising a hand to his forehead. I hesitate for a moment, surprised, before voicing my concern.

----------

"Are you alright?"

I shake my head, pushing away Sheik's concern, "Yeah, fine. . .My head just stings a little from where that damn spider hit me. . ."

It's a lie. . .It's something else. I _must_ be going crazy to think-

**_Damn you! DAMN YOU! I could have _won_! _I_ would have devoured _you, _not the other way around! This _wasn't _supposed to happen! No no _NO!**

[_What's_ wrong _with me? Who are you?. . .Are you-?]_

**_No, I'm the bloody_ tooth fairy_. Who the_ hell _do you_ think_ I am? _**

[. . ._Dark Link?_]

**_. . .We have a genius._**

"So. . .What was that thing?" Sheik's question brings me out of my inner monologue (or dialogue, if I'm not really going nuts), and I look at him briefly, before glancing back at the ground in front of me.

"I don't really know. He's like. . .Well, I don't know at all. I've fought him once before. . .He was a bit harder then-"

**_HEY!_**

"-But he didn't offer me any answers then, either. I fought him during Ganondorf's reign, and I thought I killed him but I guess I was wrong. I have never heard of anything like him ever since then, and well, I guess I eventually just dismissed my whole battle with him as some dream, or something."

"I see. . .But if he's here, does that mean that he did not work for Ganondorf?"

**_Me? Work with Ganon? _**There's a snarling noise inside my head, **_What kind of a fool do you take me for? I am _no one's_ pawn._**

I shrug, "I don't think so. . .But I don't know for sure."

[_What happened back there, in the mist? Why are you in my head?_]

Laughing, echoing in my mind, **_Did you not listen to a word I said, little brother?_**

"Where did you meet him?" Sheik asks, tearing my mind away from my inner thoughts (conversation) and back into reality. I frown for a moment, trying to remember, and then-

"In the Water Temple. . .I met him in this large, open room. . .It seemed a bit strange. . .When I fought him there, he tried that whole mist trick on me, but it was a bit different then. I fought against him, and he kept saying strange things. . .I don't know what he was trying to do-"

**_Stupid stupid brat you're Her favorite and I don't know why you stupid spoiled _brat-**

"-but in the end I was just able to manage to defeat him. . ."

"I don't recall you mentioning him before," there's a tint of suspicion in Sheik's voice, "Is there any particular reason?"

"It's been over six hundred years, Sheik-"

**_Six hundred years and more waiting in the darkness waiting and laying low, waiting and waiting and cursing the Gods-_**

"-I've kinda forgotten about it."

"Oh."

I turn my attention back inward.

[_Just what the hell happened? And _stop_ rambling, for Din's sake, you're worse than Malon._]

Vaguely I notice that Sheik and I are down what must be the last corridor, as there's light at the end and its getting increasingly bright-

**_You have not listened, have you? You have devoured me, brother. . .We are one._**

And suddenly, there was light.

----------

_A/N_: _The wait I put you through was horrendous, and I must blame it all on DARK LINK! Bastard! Didn't like his role!_

_Anyway, I think that's it, really. . .Oh, if you're wondering, basically what Dark Link is trying to get at is that Link killed him, and absorbed him. . .Thus, he's given his powers (unwillingly) to his lighter brother, and is now stuck forever in Link's mind. Yes. Much._

_Oh, and I think that Act one may be around 70-ish chapters. . .at the most. Maybe. Matters if you want me to take the long way, or the short way._

_Spider plays more importance in Act II._

_Reviews are greatly appreciated. As are pointings out of the spelling errors._

_Heheh. . .Dark Link extends his s' when he gets mad._


	54. Chapter LIII The Forces of Heaven And H...

****

Trial of a Man  
  
_Chapter LIII - The Forces of Heaven And Hell_  
  
----------

I squint and blink violently, rubbing at my eyes in a desperate attempt to rid myself of the pain that has blossomed there. It spreads and sears into the back of my mind, and I reject the feeling, thrashing and clutching my head.  
  
The pain ends surprisingly quickly, and I blink once more to clear the spots before my eyes.  
  
It's strange how my eyes feel now. . .Once, what feels like a long Time ago, when my eyes adjusted to the light, the pupils widened or contracted in an even, circular fashion. I never noticed it back then - no, you never notice anything until its gone and out of your reach - but now, I realize that I sorta miss that feeling.  
  
**_'Cause it represents your lessening hold on humanity?_**  
  
I ignore him, instead focusing on the way I can feel my eyes contract to block out the harsh light - harsh, eye burning, scorching stuff that it is - closing in horizontally. . .It really feels, well. . .  
  
Different.  
  
"You okay?" Sheik asks, but there's no serious concern in his voice. . .But still, he always seems worried about me. I feel a bit ashamed at this, but there's really nothing I can do and nothing I can say without sounding like an idiot, so I just nod.  
  
"Yeah. . .Light's a bit bright."  
  
Understatement.  
  
Sheik nods, seeming to know exactly what I mean. Maybe he does, I doubt he's let the matter of me turning into a Demon out of his thought process for long, ". . .Seems like you have a hard time adjusting. . .How are your eyes now?"  
  
"Fine," I say, a little bit of a lie. . .They still ache a little from the sudden violent change. Who knew that it was so damned bright outside? ". . .How do my eyes look?" I think of asking again, as my question was all but clear, but it seems like Sheik again knows what I'm talking about.  
  
"Slits. Very, _very_ narrow slits. Your eyes are still mostly elliptical, but they're slowly narrowing even further. . .This is the worst I've seen them so far," Sheik sighs, lightly and to himself, rubbing his forehead. I lower my gaze and bite on my lip, then using the opportunity to study our new landscape.  
  
It's much like it was on the other side of the mountains, but the sky is just a little bit clearer (what was with the other side anyway? It was like the Eternal Cloud of Grey and Depressing Doom was always hanging above it) and the grass a bit longer, and maybe a little greener.  
  
We are on a hill, and laid out before us is miles of grassland, and then more hills of in the distance. I see very little, actually - there is a forest ahead but it will take us at least a day to get there. The ocean is only around ten miles to the south, and to the north are tall, proud mountains.  
  
There is no sign of any village or anything.  
  
**_Do you expect it to be that easy?_** Dark Link snickers, his voice callous and cold, **_Nothing is _ever _easy for the Hero! Oh yes, the poor little,_ hard _done upon Hero. Looks like he might have to travel a day or two just to find the comfort of a warm inn-  
_**  
I roll my eyes, being careful not to let Sheik see, but he's not even looking at me, [_Oh, quiet. At least I'm still alive._]  
  
Dark Link's voice gets colder, and I swear I can feel him glaring in the back of my head, . . . **_Stupid little Hero._**  
  
I sigh - audibly, but Sheik doesn't notice so its alright - and turn to my companion, "Well. . . Where to?"  
  
He turns his gaze far to the west, toward the forest. Slowly, he raises his hand and points, and following his line of sight I catch glimpse of a path, "Through there. . .In about three days, we can reach the town of Aeiod," he catches my gaze and shakes his head, "Trust me, I didn't make up the name. It means something in the older languages, and I'll be damned if I know. Either way, from there its some more forest, and the town of Tonvik. With luck, we'll be able to catch a boat to Temal."  
  
I watch him curiously, "And if luck's not with us?"  
  
"Then we have to go through about a hundred miles of thief infested mountains, more plains and forests -which are just _swarming_ with members of the Guard, by the way - and then the great stretch of swamps where the bugs try their damnedest to feast on you _alive_, and _then_ Temal."  
  
". . .Boat sounds good."  
  
Sheik closes his eyes and snickers once, and I join him with a slight chuckle. For one moment, I think that everything is nice and easy and calm, but when Sheik opens his eyes again and looks at me, the seriousness in his gaze tells me not everything is right.  
  
Immediately my mood drops, and I advert my eyes.  
  
Why is he so. . .mad (upset?) with me?  
  
**_It's cause you're a Demon. . .He's friends with a Demon and he will kill you, brother, he will kill you and murder you and_ God damn it_ if I don't help him stab that knife right into your heart-_  
**  
[_Oh, stop your blabbing. Goddesses, can't you just shut the hell up?_]  
  
I can feel Dark Link smirk as he replies, **_Nope._**  
  
[_Why don't you be useful, at least then? Tell me what you meant about Farore not choosing you._]  
  
It's Dark Link's turn to sigh - that is an awkward statement. . .I have to find something else to call him - but he answers me anyway, **_She choose _you_ to be the Hero, dumb ass. She chose you. Over me. You, over me. DAMN _IT_! WHY DID SHE DO IT?!  
_**  
I wince, vaguely aware that I'm lucky Sheik's too busy thinking and watching the road ahead to be concerned with me, [_Hey, watch it. You're _too_ loud._] I resist the urge to rub my temples.  
  
**_Weak minds_ break _easier._**  
  
I can feel the bastard smirking at me as he says that.  
  
[_Weak? This coming from the one who lost the battle?_]  
  
It's his turn to be angry, and he snarls in the back of my mind, **_I only lost because she chose you. Bastard.  
_**  
[_Right. Blame it all on the Goddesses._]  
  
I chance a quick glance at Sheik while Dark Link is too busy fuming in the back of my mind to give me an immediate retort. His eyes are a bit unfocused, as if he is staring beyond the ground in front of him, and I can easily tell he's in deep thought. His posture also tells me a little of his mood, as I can see the slightest dip. Eyebrows caught in a frown, I wish I could do something, but then again I'm probably the source of his problems right now.  
  
"_You, the source of his problems? No, I doubt something so meager-_" the word is filled with sarcasm, "-_as a_ Demon _could cause any problems, right Link? It's not like you'll one day become a murderer with the taste for-_"  
  
Somewhere, in the back of my head, I can feel the sudden, abrupt shift in thought as Dark Link - who evidently shares my thought process or something - stops his fuming and comes to sudden attention.  
  
**_What. . .What the _hell _is she?_**  
  
If I were alone (which I don't want to be), I would have laughed out loud at the tone of my darker brother's voice, but instead I smile to myself, before suddenly blinking in surprise.  
  
[_What is who?_]  
  
I can feel it as Dark Link forces me to move my line of vision to my left. It's almost like when someone tilts your head by using their hand under your chin, except I can feel this on the inside and I must say, it feels damn creepy.  
  
He directs my gaze over to a bunch of grass, a boulder (which we quickly pass as we're still moving) and the sky beyond it. Malon stands there also, staring at me with that loathsome smile on her face. My eyes widen with realization.  
  
[_You mean Malon? You can see her too?_]  
  
**_'See her too'? What? Oh. . .Great. You really are crazy, aren't you? Just my luck. I was absorbed by the freaken crazy, little Goddesses' boy-  
_**  
[_You're the crazy one!_]  
  
Malon rolls her eyes, and I know well enough that she can hear what I think. I guess it wouldn't be surprising if she can hear what Dark Link says, too, "_Wow, wonderful. You've finally gone fucking nuts, Link._" Dark Link snickers at her words, but silences as she sorts through my head - again, a funny new feeling that I can't explain, but it reminds me of someone shifting through folders or files, like I saw the secretaries do at Balamb Garden more than once - and shifts her attention to him, "_And of all things to delude of when you go crazy, you just had to summon up _him_._"  
  
**_What? What do you mean by that, _bitch?** Dark Link snarls. I'm about offer him a warning on how persistent she can be, but Malon cuts me off and I just back off before I attract her attention again.  
  
"_Do I have to list my reasons for hating you? Fine, lets do this. One, you're ugly-_"  
  
**-I look the exact same as him!** Dark Link gestures to me mentally. The sensations are still new enough that the motion makes my head spin briefly with confusion. Malon sighs, fingers posed as she continues to count off her reasons.  
  
"-_My point exactly. Two, you're loud. Three, you're taking up valuable head space -_ my _head space, if you know what I mean. Four, you're no_ better _than Link himself is. You might as well be a Goddess-damned Demon, cause you act_ just _like one. . ._"  
  
The list went on.  
  
----------  
  
-**_And you're a fucking ugly bitch and - why the hell am I even arguing with you? You're nuts, you're crazy, and you're nothing more than a delusion of his_** - Dark Link does yet another one of his mental points, and the fury of the gesture is felt strongly. I pause in my actions to make sure not to stumble or fall - **_damn mind, so fuck off! I am not speaking to you!  
_**  
"_Well, I'm not talking to you either._"  
  
**_So there!_**  
  
"_HAH!_"  
  
Both retreat farther in my mind to hide in their little corners, and I can actually feel them glaring at each other. But, though the feeling is yet again odd and strange like an itch in the back of my mind, the sudden silence is definitely worth the discomfort.  
  
[_. . .Acting like fricken children. . ._] I shake my head in despair, though it is definitely a happy event. The two of them have been arguing for the last five hours, in which Sheik and I have finally decided to stop as it was beginning to get late. Now, we have got the fire started, and Sheik and myself are sitting across from each other, the warm flames between us.  
  
For one brief second, I think about reaching out, and touching the fire. I have not had a reason to pull out the Hellplauge since our encounter with Dark Link, and my hands are absolutely freezing. The chill is beginning to spread again. First it was just my fingers, then my hands. Feels like its working its way to my wrist now. . .  
  
I flex the fingers on my worse hand - my sword hand - while gripping the wrist with the other. Damn. . .It's so damn_ cold_, and Sheik's staring at me so I can't just pull out the damn sword and warm myself up. . .  
  
Even this close to the fire, I can barely feel the warmth of the flames.  
  
Sheik seems to notice my distress - damn him and his canny ability to tell what I'm thinking! - and he stares at me with that concerned look in his eyes, ". . .Is everything alright, Link? You're shivering."  
  
Well, damn. I am.  
  
I shuffle a little closer to the fire, wishing I could go so much closer, but stopping where I'm expected, ". . .Just a little cold is all," and I force my shivering to cease. I don't think he's convinced.  
  
He cocks an eyebrow, and stares at me harder. I can't see his expression for the most part, as his cowl is up again to ward against the cold, but I can see it his eyes easily enough, "Really?" There is definitely doubt.  
  
I _know _he's not convinced, and I curse myself for being seen through so damn easily.  
  
In the moments that follow, I am convinced that he will follow up on that, ask me why I'm cold, or what's wrong or whatever, but only silence and his contemplating gaze answers me. I wait with a hint of anticipation and nervousness in my being, but there's nothing I can do. I wait for him to ask, in the meantime pretending that all is well and good.  
  
Slowly, he pulls down his cowl and his gaze softens a little, ". . .Link, I-"  
  
My anger unexpectedly snaps, and I turn away from him, not sure who I'm mad with, "I'm just cold, damnit!"  
  
Looks like Dark Link and Malon have really set my nerves on edge. . .  
  
I expect Sheik to get mad, to turn away from me too. I expect him to boil over with anger, and to yell at me, vicious words of hate and malice on how he knows something's up. Maybe I expect him to go cold and just fume silently, cursing me under his breath and glaring.  
  
But when he looks at me, worry and pity in his eyes, and a look of friendship that reminds me so achingly of the few friends I've had and lost over the years, I find my own anger dissipating and dissolving into nothing more than a passing thing.  
  
"Link. . .I'm _worried_. Let me help."  
  
The words are halting and confused, but made with such good intention. . .I've always worried about this moment, where Sheik finds out all about me. . .Or just one of the things I've tried to hide. . .Like Malon (and now Dark Link), or the sword. I always thought that he would be angry. That he would force the truth out of me, and then in disgust leave me behind and walk way, and I would yet again lose another friend.  
  
But if he really does know enough to worry and act like he is. . .Maybe he won't just get up and leave?. . .If he's worried about what I am. . .I'd never hurt him, I swear-  
  
[_Promised so much in your life and you always fail and hurt the things you love and why don't you just give up and die-_]  
  
"Link, please. . .Tell me. . .I know there's something strange about your sword. I have for a while now. . .Tell me about it."  
  
His words strike a chord in me, but I still find myself hesitant. His voice gentle enough, but I still find myself fearing that sudden drop into anger. Somewhere, far back in the recesses of my mind, I can hear my dark brother laughing.  
  
". . .you won't get mad?" I feel horribly pathetic and small, but I just can't help myself.  
  
"I won't. Promise."  
  
"I. . .The sword? What about it?"  
  
Sheik looks at me, more knowledge then I've ever known looming behind his eyes, "Tell me. . . Everything. How did you get it? What is it?. . .Everything."  
  
I sigh, running a hand through my hair as I think. My mind, of course, tries to seek a way out of this conversation and on to safer ground, but when it comes to nothing but dead ends (there is no way I could subtly switch topics now), I sigh again and look back up at him.  
  
"The sword. . .I found it, while we were in Hell. I don't remember much-"  
  
[_A dream, a field of the dead. . .A man standing tall, dead and broken and yet still standing, grinning, mad and ready for battle, flesh torn and eye hanging low on his cheek-_]  
  
"-but that is where I got it. I don't know much about this sword, but shortly. . .Shortly afterward, I noticed that my fingers were getting cold."  
  
"Your fingers?" Sheik looks a little confused, but the he nods briefly, motioning for me to continue.  
  
"Yeah, my fingers. It was just my fingertips that were cold, which was strange. I thought at first that I must have been getting sick again, or something, because how could I be cold in the middle of Hell? The place is filled with lava, of all things. I ignored it. . .It got worse. The chill spread downward, slowly, bit by bit, past my fingers."  
  
Sheik looks interested, but says nothing. I force myself to continue, despite all the hesitation and warnings my heart throws at me. I swallow heavily, wishing for a distraction that I know will never come.  
  
"It. . .goes away when I hold the sword. It warms my hands. . .It feels so much better to hold it, but when I let go. . .Suddenly I'm freezing again."  
  
Sheik takes this all in with silent contemplation, and then, ". . .How far has the cold spread?"  
  
"I think my wrists are next."  
  
"Hmm," There's a long, quiet moment, in which Sheik cradles his chin as he thinks, and I stare into the fire, wishing to touch it so badly. . .It looks so warm. . .Sheik clears his throat and I glance up quickly at him.  
  
". . .I don't like the sound of this," he turns his own gaze into the fire, but continues speaking, "But I don't think this sword of yours is giving us a choice. I think that if we were to get rid of it-"  
  
Something sparks in me then, not anger, but worry, "No! We _can't_! I-!"  
  
As if he didn't even notice my outburst, Sheik continues, eyes looking up at me only for a brief moment, before lowering again toward the fire, "If we were to get rid of it, I'm afraid your problem would only get worse. I have never liked that sword from day one. . .There is something wrong with it, and I think that I might know what its trying to do."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I don't know what its end purpose could be, but I have the feeling that if you try and dispose of the sword, that chill is going to continue at you, until you have no choice but to go and get the damn thing back."  
  
"So what you're trying to say is?"  
  
"If we get rid of it, you might just end up freezing to death. If we keep it. . ." He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, ". . .I think the only choice we have is to keep it, and if what you say about it only getting worse when you don't hold it. . .Well, maybe you should hold it more often, then. There's not much else I can suggest. What about when you go long periods without touching it?"  
  
Slowly, I raise my hand to show him. Despite my attempts to keep it still, it shakes like a thing possessed and there's nothing I can do to make it steady. Sheik's eyes widen at the sight, and finally, after I'm sure I got my point across, I lower my left hand, and bring it back down level to the right. The difference between the two is obvious now, as it takes an iron grip from my right hand to stop my shaking.  
  
[_. . .Seems a bit worse tonight, than usual._]  
  
I can clearly see Sheik bite his bottom lip as he thinks, his eyes glazed with thought. It doesn't take him long to come to a decision.  
  
"Whenever you start getting cold, hold it for a while. . .There's got to be a way to abate this, but we might even be heading in the wrong direction," his voice is low and quiet, a whisper meant only for himself, yet still I can hear it, "I wish I knew what to do. . ."  
  
The silence lingers after his remarks, and I look into the fire. Maybe Sheik is right, maybe we're going about this wrong way - maybe this is only getting worse because I use the sword so damn much, but then again, we can't be sure about that. I rub my hands together briefly, before slowly moving to pull out the Hellplauge, so as not to alarm Sheik by any sudden movements. The touch, is as usual, warm and comforting, chasing off the chill and leaving me feeling much warmer. The shaking in my hands dies down to nothing.  
  
I can see Sheik watching this all intently, though he says nothing. I can't help but let a small smile appear on my face as I am now warm and content, no longer shivering and freezing.  
  
**_Warm and happy but _still_ a damned failure-_**  
  
My grin all but fades to nothing, and I replace it with a fake substitute.  
  
[_I thought you weren't going to talk to me?_]  
  
**_I'm ignoring Malon, not you, numb skull. She's an ugly hateful bitch and she whines. And she's also just a part of you. . .Or have you forgotten that?  
_**  
[_You were_ so_ much better when you were quiet._]  
  
A grin, **_Louder is better, go big or go home._**  
  
I roll my eyes, careful that Sheik doesn't notice the gesture, [_That didn't even make sense._]  
  
Dark Link's grin doesn't waver from the place I can feel it in the back of my head. The sensation, just like the rest of them, is horribly disconcerting, humming and tingling in the back of my mind, like an itch I can't scratch. I don't even know how I am able to tell what gesture it is he's trying to do, but somehow I know, and that doesn't make it any better.  
  
I ignore my brother, leaving him just to rot - or whatever it is he can do - and instead turn my attention to other, vital things. Like food. Food is good, and I'm starved. We've been walking all day and I haven't had anything since breakfast, which seems so long ago. . .  
  
I reach for the food supplies in my pack, nodding vaguely when Sheik excuses himself for a moment to go and get more firewood. I open up the bag as he disappears from this tiny clearing, and reach in to pull out some dried meat, seasoned with all matters of spices and salts.  
  
I manage to find a rather large strip, about the length of my hand. Its enticing smell reaches my nose, and I am not surprised to hear my stomach growl in its anticipation. I raise the food, ready to eat it-  
  
My eyes widen in disgust as I see the blood dripping from the jerky, wet and moist and limp in my hands, and it is with a sudden jerking action that I pull my hands back, away from the thing as it falls back into the bag from which I took it.  
  
[_What the hell-_]  
  
I am silenced by Dark Link's malicious laughing in the back of my mind. I watch, with disbelieving eyes as all the blood and moisture suddenly disappears from the food, leaving it again stiff and dry. My brow crinkles in confusion.  
  
[_. . .What was that?_]  
  
My brother's raucous laughing finally comes to a halt, lessening until finally he can speak again, **_Are you so naive? We share the same mind now, brother, is it such a surprise that I can show you what I am thinking?  
_**  
[_. . .That's just _sick.]  
  
**_Who knows, with you becoming a Demon and all, maybe one day you'll like it.  
_**  
I roll my eyes again, [_I will never like something like that, asshole._]  
  
Dark Link snickers, but again disappears into the recesses of my mind. I immediately turn my thoughts away from the bloody meat - which is no longer so bloody, and is starting to look rather appetizing again - and toward more important thoughts. If he could do that, effect what I can see, then what about I hear? What I think?. . .What I do?  
  
[_This cannot be good. . ._]  
  
As much as I'd like to clear up the problem and produce a solution, nothing comes to mind so instead I push it aside, storing it deep within my mind. There's nothing I can do about it for now, but I will think of something. . .There's a lot of worry running through my mind, but I forcefully push it aside, returning to my now normal again meal.  
  
[_Did the blood really bother you that badly?_]  
  
I frown with disgust.  
  
[_Of course. I mean, it was absolutely_ dripping-]  
  
[_But its not like you have_ never_ seen the stuff before._]  
  
My frown darkens.  
  
[_Doesn't mean I_ want_ to eat it._]  
  
I take a bite of the jerky, pulling apart a chunk and begin chewing on the hard meat. It tastes really good, with all those seasonings and such, but I can't help but let my mind wander to the trick Dark Link played on me. What if what he says is the truth? What then?  
  
I had a hard Time sleeping that night.  
  
---------  
  
**_. . .I don't like this._**  
  
I grind my teeth lightly, trying to ignore him, or at least not let my temper show, [_You don't like much of anything._]  
  
He scoffs indignantly a the thought, but continues anyway,**_ Still, there's something not quite right here. . .  
_**  
[_Could it be the fact that I have an insane 'brother' of mine floating about in my head, who looks almost exactly like me and who has yet to give me an explanation of just who or what he really is?_]  
  
**_. . .I'm serious, brother. . .I _don't_ like this._**  
  
I roll my eyes at his words, but I take a glance around anyway. Nothing much, really, we've left that forest this morning (making great Time, according to Sheik), and now we are again on hilly grass plains, deserted and bleak. There's a chill wind, but the Hellplague's in my hands so it doesn't matter as much as it would normally. The sky is a bit dark and overcast.  
  
[_I don't see anything here. . .What could go wrong?_]  
  
**_If I knew that, I'd tell you, but I don't so be careful, damnit.  
_**  
[_Look who's suddenly being Mr. Protective._]  
  
**_What I can I say? I _love_ my family._**  
  
Resisting the urge to yet again roll my eyes - I've been doing that a lot lately - I instead glance over toward Sheik. He catches my gaze and looks over at me, his eyes curious.  
  
". . .Something doesn't feel quite right," I say, and now its the truth. Whatever it is that my brother was feeling, I can feel it now too, and its worming its way through my mind in a rather unsettling way. There is something wrong here, and I just wish I could figure out what it is.  
  
Sheik looks surprised at first, his eyes narrowing, before they suddenly widen again and he glances about almost wildly. He can feel it now too, can he? . . .This can't be good. Normally, I could dismiss something like this as my own paranoia, but if he can feel it too-  
  
The sky seems to darken even further, and the wind suddenly becomes bitting, its very touch sending fear to the heart. The Triforce of Courage glows brightly (and hotly) on my hand for a moment, filling my body with a warm tingling sensation that makes me feel like I can take on anything.  
  
[_. . .I haven't felt this way since. . .since. . ._]  
  
My eyes widen.  
  
Diablo.  
  
I haven't felt like this since I fought with Diablo in the Chaos Sanctuary. . .Which means. . .  
  
{_Why, Hello, Hero. . ._} a hissing voice from behind me states, sly and clever and covered with a silk I haven't heard in a while. Both Sheik and I whip about to see Baal, The Lord of Destruction standing not more then fifteen feet behind me. . .at least, I think its Baal.  
  
He's. . .changed. . .His height has diminished slightly, and his robes are gone. Instead, his many tentacles cover him now, twisting about his legs and waist like living clothing. His arms are clawed with long fingers and shriveled muscles, but I know that the strength contained therein is powerful still. He has gone bald, and his skin is now a slick swamp green color that I find repulsive. His eyes have shrunk in to his skeletal skull. Only a few of his many original bandages that once covered him remain, littered about his form like forgotten confetti.  
  
I take a step back, caution raging throughout me as I raise the Hellplague. It's blade glints in the dim sunlight, like a challenge. Baal laughs, moving forehead almost as if sliding on air. I can't even see his feet, never mind tell if he still has them, any more.  
  
{_It is good to see _you_, Hero. . .And you still have the Sheikah with you as well,_} his words have been unusually smooth and almost caring - but as he mentions Sheik's name I can hear the disdain laced in his words, {_Pitiful rat disrupted our last meeting, if I remember correctly._}  
  
"What were you trying to do to me, anyway?" I grind out, though in truth I already know the answer. He needs me, I'm his last hope. Diablo has put so much into this risk, and now Baal is trying to reap the profits. . .What I don't know is what he tried to do, exactly. I know his intentions, but not his methods.  
  
Baal's withered face smirks rather vilely, wrinkling, {_. . .I think that even one such as yourself can discover the answer to that. . .But now, I would like a more reasonable discussion with you. . .Without interruption this time?_} He glances over at Sheik, and I find myself doing the same. His face is a mixed image of both determination, and fear. And rightfully so. . .No one in their right mind would ignore the danger that a Prime Evil represents.  
  
I raise my sword into a more threatening position, glaring at him, "I don't even want to talk to you. I have nothing to say."  
  
Baal's smirk widens into a malicious grin, {_Don't be _rude_, Hero. . .I think you'll find this offer rather. . .irresistable._} He raises a hand, and speaks a sharp word. Instantly, I drop my sword and my hands fly to my throat as I begin to choke. The Hellplague hits the ground with a clang beside me.  
  
I. . .can't breathe. . .  
  
Sheik automatically takes a step toward me, a worried look on his face. I wish I could say something, but I can't as I continue to struggle to gain air into my lungs. I can see through rapidly dimming vision Baal's grin widen, and another word is spoken.  
  
[_It. . .it sounds kinda like that w-word. . .I used in the cave-_]  
  
I am suddenly lifted off my feet and sent flying over toward Baal, struggling and fighting as I am held up off the ground. The force pulling suddenly stops, leaving me to hang pathetically right in front of the Lord of Destruction himself, and I can't help but twist and turn in the air, wishing for a breath.  
  
The invisible grip on my throat tightens without warning and I squeak as even more air escapes me. Baal focuses his attention solely on me, and forces me to do the same to him. His eyes, ancient and filled with a dark wisdom, gleam in a way that only makes me feel worse.  
  
{_Now_,} he states, his words weighing thick in my mind like syrup, {_That's better, isn't it? Yes. You are listening, now._} I open my mouth to say something, anything to get him to let me go, but I can't. My voice is locked up and I need a breath of air but I can't quite manage to suck anything into my lungs, {_Just relax. . .This won't take _long.} Once more he raises his hand, speaking in that strange language I somehow know but do not understand, and the sudden force attacks my mind, and I can feel consciousness slipping from my grip. . .  
  
----------  
  
I watch with a growing sense of horror as I see the already deep impressions around Link's neck worsen, and the way he keeps gasping for air. I try to take a step forward, do something, but I can't quite manage it. . .I can't tear my eyes away from the scene before me, the struggling, gasping, dying Link held up high before the grinning Baal.  
  
{_Now, that's better, isn't it? Yes. You are listening, now_.} I watch as Link's eyes droop, seeming to get heavy. It looks like his battle for oxygen is failing and he needs air. I wish to move forward and help him but I'm frozen on the spot, watching the bruises form on his fragile neck, {_Just relax. . .This won't take long._}  
  
Baal again raises his hand, muttering another one of those strange, cryptic words so similar to what I heard Link say to brighten that fire spell of his. Link gives a sudden jerk from where he floats, his eyes going wide. There's a startled, strangled look on his face, and then slowly, his eyes roll back in his head and his body goes completely limp.  
  
"Link!" I hiss, my worry strong and throbbing in my limbs. Baal doesn't hear me, his attention still focused solely on the Hero.  
  
{_Yes. . .You are_ mine_ now_,} he reaches forward with one of his many tentacles, the long slim appendage slithers up and out from the Demon's back, caressing Link's face. It lingers there for just a moment, before sliding down and wrapping around his waist, holding him up as it curls back in on itself, bringing Link into the range of the other tentacles-  
  
Anger boils within me, and whatever spell it was that Baal placed on me is now gone. My muscles tensing, I suddenly spring toward my opponent. I will not let him have Link! I won't let him!  
  
Baal continues to shift the unconscious Link in his tentacles, growing more of the unsightly appendages to wrap around the unwilling passenger. It is only then, as I run even faster, my feet thudding against the hard ground below and Link becomes even further entangled in a sea of tentacles does Baal remember me. He turns to face me, a sneer on his lips.  
  
{_You will not interfere this time, Sheikah!_} Tentacles pierce the skin of this monster, growing at an incredible rate, extending and growing and stretching out, reaching for me. I dodge the things, daggers in my hands, and slash out at anything unfortunate enough to get close to me. I hack at him, my weapons cutting through the slimy flesh of Baal like butter, and every time I cut him he screams in agony.  
  
The tentacles surrounding Link lessen as they are instead redirected at me, but almost as soon as I notice this with a tinge of glee, Baal does too and as I approach, he tightens his grip upon my friend, the tentacles forming a vicious web around him.  
  
I land lightly on the top of the mass in which my friend lays, and instantly begin cutting and pulling frantically. With every tentacle I cut, another takes its place, but not fast enough and soon I am burrowing deeper and deeper, fighting through the thick limbs. Baal's shrieks of anger and fury pierce the air in that strange, double toned voice of his, but I ignore him, focusing only on one thing.  
  
[_Come on come on please-!_]  
  
My footing is horrible, as the tentacles are twisting and pulling and generally moving beneath my feet, but I don't care. My blades fly about the mass, cutting and hacking and slicing, falling deeper into the black shadows withing this living web, looking and hoping to find him-  
  
There!  
  
There's a sudden flash of white within all this black, and with new hope running through my veins, I burrow deeper, fighting against the tentacles which are so intent on stopping me, but I won't let them. Getting closer to Link, and now able to see him cradled in the entanglement like a child in a crib, I drop my daggers without a care, and begin pulling away the things with my hands, unwilling to even chance hurting Link. . .  
  
At long last, I breathe a sigh of relief as the last of the tentacles give way, and I drop down to the inner level of this writhing mass, landing right beside my unconscious friend. I rip at the few tentacles holding him in place quickly, aware that we do not have much time before Baal traps the both of us in here, but I will not give up.  
  
The things give way, and suddenly I have full access to Link. I don't waste any time, placing one arm underneath his legs, and the other behind his back to support him. I stand up quickly on shaky legs - Link's a bit heavier than I thought but it doesn't matter, I don't have to carry him far - and look up for the hole I came down through.  
  
It has already been filled again by tentacles, and now they're racing down toward me and Link, while the rest continue to twist and warp around us as a living tomb. Determination sets in, stronger than before, and suddenly, I find myself running with Link still in my arms, bashing into the walls of this prison, clawing and fighting our way out.  
  
The tentacles give way, and suddenly we're falling toward the ground below. I twist and turn in mid air, curling myself around Link's body as we fall. I hit the ground hard, gasping. The air around us is suddenly cool again, and for the first time I notice Link's hard, rasping gasps for breath, and the dark purple bruises around his neck.  
  
[_No time for that,_ move!]  
  
Instantly, I am on my feet again, carrying Link away from the shrieking, mad with anger Baal. As soon as we are some twenty feet away I drop to my knees, and lay Link on the cold ground before quickly turning back to Baal. There will be time to check on him later, but for now-  
  
Baal turns to me, hissing his displeasure. The look on his face has gone completely murderous, and suddenly fear grips my heart. . .I. . .I don't stand a chance-  
  
{_That,_} he begins, his voice harsh and full of hatred, {_Was_ not _a smart move, boy._} The tentacles that once held Link and surrounded him now shift their direction, moving slowly toward me and Link, {_I _will _show you_ pain,_ Elf._} With lightning speed, the tentacles race through the air, twisting and turning and descending upon me-  
  
There's a flash of light, and then in the silence that follows, the tips of the oncoming tentacles suddenly just drop right off in a haze of blood. My attention shifts to the left, where I see a sight like I've never seen before.  
  
In front of a dark, cloudy sky, booming with thunder and flickering with flashes lightning floats the enigmatic form of Tyrael, blade drawn and wings spread. His faceless gaze shifts from Baal to me, and then to Link. I can feel his gaze focus, moving back to Baal once more.  
  
::_Looks like I came just in time. . ._:: The brilliant wings of Tyrael flash once, before suddenly he's flying toward us, sword drawn, ready for battle.  
  
---------  
  
Floating in a dark void, surrounded by the whispers of a thousand voices all speaking in some language I don't understand. . . Time passes with no meaning, no feeling, and I can feel myself slipping away back into the black of oblivion of sleep. . .  
  
Suddenly I'm moving and being shaken. . .Goddesses, it hurts. . ._Stop_ shaking me. . .  
  
The shaking persists, causing my head to throb and reality to come back painfully. Immediately, I can feel the chill of the ground beneath me, and the chill wind dancing over my body. There are hands on my arm, rocking me back and forth in an attempt to rouse me.  
  
Reluctantly, I open my eyes, gazing up blankly at the dark sky above me. . .There's something right beside me (someone?) but I can't see very well yet, and I don't know why but I'm coughing wrenching coughs, rolling over on to my hands and knees and gasping, gagging for breath. There's the sensation of a hand on my back, rubbing as I fight to get more air in my lungs.  
  
After a long moment of silence - actually, I notice that it's not really quiet like I originally thought, it sounds like there's a fight going on - I am finally able to turn around and face the person who was trying so hard to wake me-  
  
". . .Sheik?" My voice is heavy, tired, strained. It's hard to keep my eyes open. . .  
  
"Are you alright?" he asks, concern in his eyes, laced with a tint of fear. I nod, but pause when the movement makes my world spin.  
  
". . .Yeah. . .Just _peachy_. What happened?" Sheik hesitates, before glancing to his left. I follow his gaze, and my eyes widen.  
  
Baal and Tyrael, fighting.  
  
I stumble to my feet, and Sheik follows me. Immediately I notice my lack of weapon, and that Sheik is also missing his daggers. I look at him curiously, and he shrugs.  
  
"I dropped them while trying to keep Baal away from you."  
  
I nod, a bit of a smile, and then immediately set to scanning the ground for my weapon. Its not in its sheath, so I must have dropped it somewhere. . .  
  
There it is! Only about five feet behind Baal is the sword, gleaming in the dark almost invitingly. I smile at the sight, and move forward, but Sheik stops me with a hand on my shoulder. I turn about to face him, trying to ignore the distracting sight of Baal and Tyrael fighting.  
  
"Maybe we should just leave, Link, not get involved in this." I shake my head.  
  
"If we don't get involved, we don't know which one will win and who'll still be after us. . .This way, I can make sure that Baal, at least, dies." I look over in their direction, and see the ferocity with which they are fighting. Tyrael is slashing at Baal's many tentacles with his glowing sword, but Baal is recreating the things just as quickly, while firing blasts of magic at the Angel. I look back at Sheik, "Well, at least I can try."  
  
"I still think we should just go. Grab your sword and go. . .I don't like the feeling of this, Link. . ." I laugh bitterly.  
  
"I was feeling the same way before all this started," I reply, looking back toward the two fighting titans, "No. . .I think we should_ finish_ this, before it gets further out of hand." Without giving him a chance to reply, I run forward, cursing as my legs feel almost rubber beneath me. I push this aside, forcing myself to keep moving.  
  
Baal and Tyrael are locked against each other, Baal's tentacles pulling furiously (or at least trying to) at Tyrael's sword, while the Angel is still trying to get past the makeshift shield of the Demonic appendages. Neither of them notice me, not until I run past Baal - I can just catch the sight of his eyes following me, but he's too busy with his own battle - and I slide across the ground and pick up the Hellplague as I pass by.  
  
It glows as if recognizing my tough. Despite my mixed feelings for it - I can't just throw it away, but I know I shouldn't be keeping it, either - I manage a small smile, before looking up at my opponents.  
  
They've stopped their own movements, and are staring at me, as well.  
  
I raise the Hellplauge in a defensive position, in front of my body, and flash them a smile - a bit of a bitter one, but one nonetheless, "Well, might as well get this party started, huh?" Suddenly I'm running forward, toward them, feeling strangely energized, as if I could take on the entire world.  
  
At this thought, the Triforce grows warm on the back of my hand.  
  
I might just have to.  
  
Baal is the first to react, making a snarling noise deep in his throat, {_Looks like the Hero wants to play. . ._} His eyes narrow, and his tentacles raise - many of which come flying at me, but he also sends a large amount toward Tyrael, who in the moment is caught off guard.  
  
The Angel quickly recovers, flying in a spiral up and out of the sudden swarming mass of Demonic flesh, bursting up through the top high in the sky. I watch for but a brief second - fighting my own enemies at the same Time - as he stares downward, at the upturned face of Baal, before readying his sword and swooping down once more.  
  
I suddenly lose sight of them, as the tentacles redouble their efforts upon me.  
  
Really, it isn't hard to 'kill' one of the tentacles (I really doubt that I'm killing them, they're probably just regrowing as I sever them), I just slash at it, and if the hit is powerful enough, my blade just sails right through - of course there is the constant spray of blood, but I am long used to that. The problem is, there is just so damn many of them, so that as soon as one falls away, there is suddenly another, right there. And another. And another.  
  
[_I don't think Baal will try to kill me, no. . .I think I am still far more valuable to him alive. However, if he manages to get a hold of me again, there's no telling what will happen._] I have a brief recollection of what Baal did to me, both Times we've met, and there's no doubt in my mind that if it weren't for Sheik, I would be probably some mindless drone working for the Lord of Destruction.  
  
Either way, I don't want to get caught, no matter what the outcome, so I put all my thought into dodging the oncoming tentacles. They twist and turn and I have no hope but to do the same myself, slowly hacking my way forward.  
  
There's a sudden, horrific, double toned scream that could have only come from Baal, and without warning, all the tentacles that had surrounded me have fled back to their master, trying to block Tyrael's relentless attacks. I watch with no small amount of awe as the Angel swings his glowing sword, the foreign metal shining ever so brightly as it slices through its opponent. No matter how many of the damn things he kills, he remains clean of the blood. This, of course, only enhances his divine visage.  
  
Finding myself with a sudden lack of resistance, I start running forward again. Now that the tentacles are out of my way, I can move again, though there isn't really that big of a distance between me and Baal. I approach, moving faster than I ever have before, blade ready.  
  
Without warning, a section of the tentacles abandon their fight with Tyrael and turn toward me. Before I even have a proper chance to understand what is going on, I am suddenly surrounded and held against my will. My wrists are held tight, and my legs follow suit. Within seconds, I am lifted right off the ground, and even more tentacles begin wrapping around me, like a cocoon.  
  
It's suddenly warm and stifling and I struggle to move, but I can't move my sword and my wrists are held too tight. I kick and struggle about vainly, becoming acutely aware of just how little oxygen there is in here. The slimy, warm tentacles tighten their grip on me, wrapping closer and closer and again I can't breathe-  
  
A sudden shining light breaks through the dark mass, slicing through the tentacles so easily, and at the touch, the things wriggle in what appears to be agony. A hand reaches inside and widens the gap, pulling the writhing mass open. Instantly, the shining form of Tyrael is revealed, and he quickly and efficiently pulls me free from my captor.  
  
[_He. . .saved me?_]  
  
Immediately, his hand is holding me by the collar of my jacket, and I am flung hard. I go flying, landing and skidding, resting on my back. The pain that blossoms there is sharp and aching, and I can't help but groan. The sound gets caught in my throat, as Tyrael follows dramatically, leaping of the ground in a smooth motion and landing on top of me, his legs straddling my chest. Sword raised, ready to stab me-  
  
Before he can deliver the death blow, there is a mass of tentacles surrounding him, wrapping around his glowing blade and wrenching it from his grasp. It goes flying, landing over thirty feet away with a loud clang as it hits the dirt. Tyrael looks over at it, the expression emanating from him a brief sense of despair, and the he twists about, still above me. I try to move, and get away before he decides just to strangle me, but there's no Time. A sharp word, and a bright flash, and suddenly a blast of fire engulfs him, throwing him off of me to join his sword. He cries out in agony while airborne, twisting and squirming, before landing hard. He doesn't move, and its very obvious that his glow is greatly diminished.  
  
[_. . .Tyrael?_]  
  
Baal walks forward, far less tentacles ready that before - its not like he would need them. Tyrael's down, maybe even dead - and the sneer on his face is nearly acidic. He takes several more steps forward, {_Now that he's done. . .We can continue our conversation, hm? Where _were _we?_} He bends down to grab at me, and I take a brief glance about for the Hellplauge - [_Shit! Where is it?_] - but before he can make contact with me, his eyes widen, his face expressionless. He stands frozen in Time for all of a second, before suddenly whipping around.  
  
There stands Sheik, looking surprisingly disheveled, his hand extended. Inserted in the crook between each finger is one of those small throwing daggers - less than five inches long, and a quarter of an inch wide at its thickest points - giving him quite the claw hand. On Baal's back (now turned to me) there are three long, red gashes.  
  
[_Good work, Sheik._]  
  
With a snort of what could only be anger at being interrupted yet again, Baal suddenly lashes out, his own clawed hand raking across Sheik's chest. Sheik cries out in pain, falling backward, and my eyes widen with horror.  
  
"SHEIK!"  
  
Baal whips about and faces me yet again, {_He's a foolish mortal. . .Useless waste of perfectly good flesh._}  
  
My anger turns venomous, "He's my friend," I grind out. Baal laughs.  
  
{_What kind of a man is it who must rely on friends?_}  
  
"A good one."  
  
Baal chuckles, shaking his head, {_Wrong! A fool! A failure! A weakling relies on others. . .But you don't have to be a weakling anymore, Hero-_}  
  
"I will _not_ be your pawn, Baal, there is no way that you can make me."  
  
His eyes narrow dangerously, and with lightning speed he suddenly reaches down and grabs me by the collar, pulling me up. The material goes taut around my bruised flesh, and I choke for breath yet again, {_You are pushing it, Hero. . .You don't have to agree to anything. . .That just makes it all the quicker quicker._} He sneers, and begins raising his tentacles, but there's a sudden flash from behind him, and he screams in agony.  
  
Sword. . .Tyrael's glowing sword is protruding from Baal's stomach.  
  
I glance over Baal's shoulder to catch a glimpse of a dimly glowing, battered Tyrael, on his knees, one arm extended. I look back to Baal.  
  
His upper lip curls in absolute disgust, {_This. . .ARHG! I WILL_ NOT _LOSE!_} Once more with his lightning speed, he lunges forward, and I jerk in his hands as his fangs sink into the fragile flesh of my neck. My eyes go wide, and my mouth goes slack.  
  
_::Release him, Demon!::_ Tyrael shouts from somewhere far, far away, but the only thing I can feel is the burning sensation that is dripping down into my neck. Burning, writhing, it hurts it hurts it_ hurts_-  
  
At first I am unable to even scream, but suddenly reality hits me hard for the second Time that night. I stare at him for a moment, barely able to comprehend through the pain burning its way through my veins, and I blink in confusion. Understanding dawns, and I pull back my right fist (he's got his goddamned teeth sunk into my left shoulder) and at the movement, he finally lets go and looks at me.  
  
The ensuing punch surprises him, and he drops me in a rather undignified matter. As I hit the ground, pain flares up my neck and I clutch the wound, vainly trying to retain my blood. The contact burns slightly, and I briefly pull my hand away, not too terribly surprised to see it splattered with both crimson and violet.

Damnit. . .Some kind of poison. . .

I look up at Baal, feeling the fire in my muscles as I move my neck. He's looking down - not at me, but at the sword - staring at it almost uncomprehendingly. It glows brightly, embedded in his stomach, and it is then that he collapses with it burning in his body.

Falling to his knees he writhes, twisting as what I can only imagine to be exquisite pain runs through his body. It glows even brighter, and even at this distance, I can feel the heat of its holy aura. He glances up at me, snarling through his anger and agony.

{_This is _not_ over yet, Hero,_} and with that, Baal, the Lord of Destruction, disappears in a swirl of black and violet and crimson, his form melting into a liquid that seeps into the ground, and kills the earth where it dissolved. There is a thick, heavy silence in which I can't help but stare at the spot where he used to be.

I know that Baal's not dead - Prime Evils have, as a rule, a much more dramatic death than that. Besides, it was just too damn easy. . .I might be poisoned, but I'm not clinging on to the very last threads of life, and Sheik too is still alive-

[_Sheik!_]

Ignoring both the pain of my wounds and the burning of the poison that is rapidly working its way through my body, I turn to face Sheik. . .He's lying there, on the ground, his chest wound exposed. I am surprised when I see his eyes open, though not so shocked when I see that same violet fluid smeared about his wounds.

[. . ._Shit._]

". . .Link?" he asks, his voice weak and unsteady, ". . .you alright?" I bite my lip and nod, though I don't think he can see. . . His eyes are really unfocused, staring somewhere far behind my head. My forehead crinkles in worry.

"Yeah. . .fine," It's a blatant lie. I can already feel the beginnings of a fever, and I'm starting to see double. I shake my head sharply to dispel the dizziness, but that only makes it worse. Swaying on my feet, I opt to instead just fall to my knees. My wounds (old and new) burn at the movement, but there's not much I can do. . .Not right now. . .

Lungs beginning to hurt, to burn with each rasping breath. Sheik's in the same boat as I am, as I can see all the color slowly drain from his face. His breathing shallows, and obtains a rasping, almost rattling sound to it, and I watch his chest heave for every breath he takes. The wind feels oddly cool against my hot skin, and I find my eyes growing heavy.

Aches come to life in my back and shoulders, and I wince with the sudden, burning pain. Twisting, aching pain that spreads throughout most of my body, making it unbelievably hard to breathe. It takes all I have not to just collapse where I am, and die. . .Or sleep. . .But I shouldn't sleep, not now, not when both of us are so sick.

Sheik groans, wincing with the pain that I too am feeling. . .That damn ache that settles its way into your bones, and leaves you tired and hurting and just plain feeling sick. . .My mind begins to pick up its pace, wrapping and twisting and turning upon itself with questions that I don't know the answer to and memories and things that I have long since put aside-

I drop down on to my chest, laying there for a long moment. My eyesight is beginning to go black, and its getting harder and harder to think clearly. . .

Goddesses. . .I could use a rest. . .

[_Gotta. . .Gotta keep moving,_] I roll over with a grunt of pain, to stare at the unconscious Sheik next to me, [_Got to move, he's not as used to the poison as you are. . .He could die._] I push myself up off the ground with a quiet, weak groan, forcing myself up on to my knees. I shake and sway, trying to maintain my balance but its not working-

[_Maybe. . .Just a brief little rest. . ._]

I collapse again to the ground beneath me, my veins boiling with the poison, and my wounds screaming in protest. Laying there, suddenly cold and shivering and in complete, utter agony, it is with only a despairing, passing thought do I notice that my eyes are closing, and that I can't keep them open. . .

It's no use. . .I just hurt too much. . .

I pass out.

---------

_A/N : Sorry this took so long, and from the looks of it, I'll be late for the next chapter, too. Am going on a brief like three day trip to Edmonton, so I won't be back till like Wednesday. . ._

_Anyways, if there's any spelling errors or grammatical errors, I apologize. I have the sneaking suspicion that my spell check screwed around with the chapter a bit, so I don't know how bad things are. Sorry. Feel free to bitch at me._

_This is quite late, but thank you to Soda for getting me my 350th review! The 400th is coming up soon! Yay! Thanks you guys! _

_Oh! And go to http :www. fanfiction. net/r/1378606/53/1/ (remove the spaces, though) and read the very top review, the one by puffypinkstar9 for a good laugh (WHY THE HELL IS THAT REVIEW UNDER MY STORY?!?!?)_


	55. Chapter LIV Files and Folders

**Trial of a Man**

_Chapter LIV - Files and Folders_

* * *

My fingers furiously shift through the files, searching for a specific folder. My hands move at a speed I never knew they were capable of before, as I know that even now I do not have much time-

"Quistis Trepe!"

I halt suddenly, faltering at the sound of the male voice behind me. It is laden with a suspicious venom and an icy cold tone that could have come only from one man. . .

"Commander," I say, keeping my face impassive as I stare at his weakened form. The glare on his face is absolutely malicious.

"What are you doing here, Quistis?" His eyes narrow, and I find myself fighting to keep up my cold, impersonal interior, "I believe those files are for my eyes only."

"I was. . .just curious, Commander," I reply, suddenly acutely aware that I shouldn't be in here, risking Squall's anger like this. . .The man can be absolutely brutal in his politics and diplomacy. By even setting foot into this room, I was risking my very job.

He walks past me, the extent of his injuries still visible - his movements are a bit slow, and sluggish, but nonetheless, he still carries that determined air to him - and he glares at me from the corner of his eye as he moves by me, moving over to his desk. There is a shifting noise, that of a drawer being opened, and he, with minor difficulty, raises high a folder for my hungry eyes.

"Is this what you were looking for, Trepe?"

The question is a baited trap, and so I attempt to change the subject, "Should you be up with your injuries?"

His eyes narrow further, "Answer, Trepe."

I advert my gaze, almost guiltily, ". . .Maybe."

Squall sighs, and the sound brings my attention back to him. He has put the folder back where it belongs, locking the drawer tight with a little key. His eyes look up and find mine, but where I once hoped would have been the glint of romance is only the dull sheen of dismay.

"I have told you already, Quistis, to stay out of this. She has been proved a psychic already - there is no secrets I am keeping from you, and there was no way she could have faked her way through the test. She is psychic."

It is my turn to narrow my eyes, "And what if she had someone helping her from the inside, Squall? What then? I don't like this, not at all. Look, you've already been hurt - badly, too - and you have yet to fully heal! If someone were to strike _now_-"

The malice on his face disappears, replaced with a sad melancholy, "And harassing an innocent girl isn't going to do anything to fix that."

His apparent sadness takes me aback, but I press forward, "But she _isn't_ innocent!"

"Listen," Squall begins, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, "She is innocent. Prove to me that she isn't. Everyone is equal in my eyes, and I will not do anything until you prove to me that she is working with our enemies." He looks up at me, and I suddenly feel a surge of regret, "I will allow you to look through all these files, gather some evidence - without ruining Isabel's name - and I will look into the matter of discipline. _Understand_?"

I nod, feeling strangely out of place, "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed," Squall strides past me, his movements swift and sure, and with a hint of hesitation, I follow him out the door, making sure to keep my distance. The door clicks shut, and with the sound I suddenly realize just how alone I really am.

* * *

She watched from above, her fiery eyes carefully tracking the seep of chaos, the destruction of trust as it leaked into the Garden. It wouldn't be long now, before there was absolute and utter havoc, and with every movement she made, she came closer to her goal.

Her voice was like a heated whisper, echoing mysteriously in the empty room, **"She thought she could hide the Hero from me, but oh, no she is wrong! If I cannot harm him. . .I will destroy everything he has ever touched!" **With such delicious thoughts in mind, she passed from the room in a wisp of smoke, leaving behind the faint, burning smell of fire touched roses and desert sand. Lonely, haunted laughter laden with the distinct sound of delusions and near insanity echoed throughout the great halls, a testament of her will.

It was to be the toughest time in Balamb Garden's history.

* * *

_A/N : Short, very short. Just to let you people know what's going on in Balamb right now. Yeah. There will be another one of these in a few chapters, but for the most part they are spaced rather greatly, as they are not quite as important as what's going on with Link._

_Anyways. . .Yeah. I think that's it. Next chapter will be longer, for sure. Yeah._

_Hey, thanks to Soda for 399, one of the world's most agonizing numbers. Thanks! Plus an extra special thanks to whoever gets the 400th review!_


	56. Chapter LV Poisoned Flesh

**Trial of a Man**

_Chapter LV - Poisoned Flesh_

* * *

The pain that spreads throughout my body at the mere thought of movement is excruciating, but despite my muscle's complaints, my mind - terrified and panicked and generally unaware - persists. I can feel dimly through my haze of unawareness a sharp pain throbbing in my shoulder, and although the rest of my aches are muted, I know that I've suffered a beating. . .but from what?

I open my eyes to a startlingly bright light, and blinded, weak, I stare up blankly, my head showing me vague glimpses of. . . blackness, and. . .some kind of monster?

I shrug, wincing as the movement sends a terrible pain through me, emanating from my shoulder. Shakily, gasping in weak breaths from between clenched teeth, I raise a hand to feel for the wound. Even I, in all my caution, am not gentle enough, and I groan at the harsh contact.

Right at the joint between my neck and my arm there is a large scab, sticky and wet with - I bring my hand in front of my face, and stare at the disgusting smears on it - puss, blood, and some kind of purple liquid-

My eyes widen.

_Poison?_. . ._Tyrael! Baal!. . .Sheik?_

Ignoring the pounding headache that is beginning to work its way through my head, I struggle into a sitting position, only vaguely seeing my surroundings. I catch the smell of the wind and of nature, the feeling of small blades of grass beneath me, and the world is a blur of vibrant green, and glorious blue. All of this, I know, would make sense to me at any other time, but right now it is just useless information.

I somehow manage to get onto my hands and knees, my world spinning as I crawl toward a white blur before me. . .no, not just white, its also blue and-

". . .sheik?" The name slips from my mouth, my voice a raspy whisper. Frowning so slightly, I reach for him but freeze when a sudden queasy feeling works it way through my stomach. I turn away and fall closer to the ground, grasping at the blades of grass beneath me as my stomach empties itself on to the grass below. The great, heaving coughs take most of my energy with them, and when I am finally done, its just about all I can do to wipe my mouth with the back of one hand.

Blinking, and then frowning, I remember what I was doing, and I turn back toward my fallen friend, my eyes struggling to simply make out his form. . .A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead and my eyesight swims. . .The throbbing in my head is pure agony by now. . .Painful agony that seems to spread throughout my entire frame, and soon I am wracked by hacking coughs that shake me to the core. . .

Feeling far too warm, and yet shivering at the same time, I look over at Sheik through hazy, clouded eyes. Its everything I can do to get over to him, and by the time I accomplish that, it seems like an entire eternity has passed, leaving me out of breath, and out of energy.

I fall to the ground, my arms suddenly too weak to hold me up, and I land face first into the nice, cool grass. My breaths are coming heavy now, hindered by the dry, stickiness of my throat. It's hard to get any air into my lungs, and as I lay there, rasping and gasping for every breath that I need, its surprising really. . .

_When. . .when did the ground get this comfortable?. . ._

My face buried in the soft green grass, it isn't long before blackness begins to overtake my world of pain and sickness. . .

* * *

_Chasing and running and screaming out my name and oh god their coming closer and they're going to get me I don't want to be one of them, I don't want to be a Demon please oh Naryu Farore and Din _please_-_

I bolt awake, my aching shoulder screaming as I fly into an sitting position. For several long, frightening moments, I sit there, deaf dumb and blind and not even really aware of who I am, my heart thudding hard in my chest and my breath coming short. I stare at nothing with uncomprehending eyes, sweating and shivering and feeling just miserable and ready to die.

I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel a cool hand touch my back, sending shivers down my spine and pain lancing through my shoulder. I groan, my eyes nearly rolling into the back of my head, feeling so tired suddenly. Before I can lay back down and fall asleep once more, I feel something pressed against my lips, that cool hand now cradling my aching head. Cold water enters my mouth, and I drink greedily, body seeking to rid itself of my sickness. . .

Time seems to haze in and out, and soon I find myself again laying down, mind fuzzy. How much time has passed, I do not know, but my mind is teetering on the edge of sleep, or worse, death. . .When exactly I fall asleep, I am not sure, but eventually, my world is black once more.

* * *

"Face it, Hobbes, he ain't gonna make it."

I blink in confusion, feeling very disoriented. . .And sick. Very, very sick.

"Neither of them will."

I'm laying on. . .grass? No, no, it feels like. . .like a blanket. . .And I got another one on top of me. . .What's going on?

"Well, what about that one? The one with the jacket? He's taking this a lot better than the other one."

Who is that talking?. . .Jacket?. . .Are they talking about me? I seem to vaguely remember having a white jacket. . .

"Aw, well, he _is _doing better then that Sheikah. . .But, I still say they aren't gonna make it, Hobbes."

My vision rapidly clearing, I find myself snuggly wrapped in some blankets, out in the middle of no where. Some small clearing in the woods. The air is surprisingly clear, clean, crisp, and its cool touch soothes my burning throat. As nice as that feels, I find myself terribly curious, and begin to force my tired, aching body to sit up. It is a struggle, in which many times I almost just lay back down and fall asleep, but eventually I manage to lock my elbows and force myself upright.

The result of this struggle is a very long, very painful coughing fit.

My head spinning wildly, I again open my eyes to stare at the blurry forms of several people, all with concern on their faces. . .Six people becomes four, which slowly becomes two. . .I close my eyes forcefully wishing to give my head a shake but knowing that I shouldn't unless I _want_ to throw up. . .

"Hey, are you alright?" A voice asks. I open my eyes and stare at the man before me.

"W-who. . .what?" My voice is a raspy whisper, quiet and nearly inaudible. The man before me shakes his head.

"Don't worry 'bout that now. . .You should just get some rest." He places his hand on my should and begins trying to push me - gently - back down to the ground below. I grunt in dissatisfaction, trying vainly to focus my bleary eyes.

"No - no. I feel. . .alright . .What's going on. . .?"

The man looks from me, to his friend, and then back to me, "We found you out on the plains with that Sheikah. You've both been poisoned, and we don't have what we need to heal you, so we're bringing you to our homes, cause we can buy you some medicine there. Now, really, you should rest, you know."

I fall back to the ground beneath me, feeling terribly drained and distant, almost separated from my mind, ". . .how's S-Sheik?" I let my head roll to rest on its cheek, and I search my rapidly blurring surroundings for any sign of my friend. Its not surprising that I can't see him, I'm fighting to keep both my eyes open and my mind awake.

". . .Sheik? You mean. . ._The _Sheik?" The sound of amazement and wondering in the voice makes me turn my head again and look up at the two men kneeling beside me. The surprised shock on their faces causes me to frown in confusion. . .What are they talking about? _The _Sheik?

"Yeah. . .Why?" Frowning at the raspiness of my voice, one of the two men (the one not talking to me, brown hair, I think, but its hard to tell, my eyes are burning) turns around and seems to be searching for something. I pay him no attention, and force myself to concentrate on what the other is saying, ". . .Is he famous or something?"

The man eyes me skeptically, "What rock have you been hiding under, boy? He's only _the_ best know thief ever!" His suspicious gaze turns to a wondrous, infectious grin, and if I didn't feel like my insides were going to leap up my throat, I might have smiled as well, "He's the most wanted man ever! The Guards are always looking for him! You are extremely lucky that it _wasn't_ the Guards who came across you, instead of us."

_Sheik. . .is famous?_

"Wait. . .Y-you're not going to t-turn us in. . .?"

"Of course not! Your friend over there is basically a hero amongst the people, how could we turn him in? Sides, he's done us no wrong!" The man's smile faded, "But how could you _not_ know all this? Everyone knows of Sheik!"

"Darien," the other one turns around again, holding a canteen in his hand. It is soon placed at my lips and I am allowed to drink as the two of them speak amongst each other, "He could be from the southern islands. I mean, just look at his tan! And there's more Hylains down there, after all. As far as I know, Sheik hasn't gone down there yet. . .Rumors say that he doesn't like the southern lands as much."

'Darien' nods in agreement, "So I've heard. I guess its a possibility." His eyes glance at me for a brief moment, before turning back toward his friend, "'Ey, Hobbes?"

"Yeah?"

I try to listen in, but its getting incredibly hard. Their voices have an oddly soothing effect on my mind, and the world has begun to swim with mist, and my head is filled with a pleasant sort of grey, clouding out my thoughts. I can't help but smile a contented little smile despite the pain that still throbs throughout my body and let my vision darken. . .It's surprisingly pleasant, a peaceful feeling as I drift off deeper and deeper into the oblivion. . .

"Maybe they _will _be alright. . ."

* * *

_The twisted black spire rose high into the sky, dark and forbidding like evil itself reincarnated. The feeling that it produced was intimidating to say the least, a dark fear that pulled and yanked at the panic already setting itself deep into his bones. Sheik set his jaw, gazing worriedly at the structure. Beside him, Link stood, looking rather. . .well, there really was no words for the blank look that covered his face._

_Link, he mused, was different that he thought. The boy really was a hero of sorts - he had seen enough battles to drive that thought beyond a doubt - but he was a hero with no direction in life. Until now, the boy (_Man_, he reminded himself, _he's like thirty times older than me _wandered beside him, no set destination, no goal. Now that Link had something to focus on, some greater purpose, he moved like a man possessed._

_Sheik watched idly as Link proved that fact silently to him, brushing past him with that determined but tired, blank gaze, pushing forward toward the Temple before them. This wasn't the first time that Link had acted so coldly, so uncaring. In fact, the hero was doing it a lot, recently, his mind on other things. It was disturbing that his friend was so single minded that their friendship was starting to fray at the edges, but he knew there were more important things on Link's mind. Friendships could be repaired._

__I just won't let it go too far. . .If Link needs me to stay human, I _will _remain his friend. . .I won't let something like this tear us apart._ Sheik's gaze hardened as he stared out at the vast waste before him. . .The tower was almost the only thing in that world of desolation and waste. . .Tall and uncaring, built upon the top of that _ridiculously_ high plateau. . .The dead desert wastelands stretched out in every direction below._

_They approached the tower, Link seemingly unworried, Sheik with open apprehension. The dark doorway greeted them, creaking open ominously as they moved forward, into the darkness. The deep, stifling darkness that stole the breath from their lungs and caressed them with cold whispers of despair and defeat._

_No one had been in the tower for a _long_ time. . ._

_Then, there was a sudden flash of light, a scream, and then the world faded away, accompanied only by the mirthless, despaired laughter of the one in black. . ._

* * *

When exactly I realize I am alive and awake, I am not quite sure, and it is with a confused mind that I slowly sit up, blinking as I try to sort my thoughts. Everything is just a big. . .blur. My vision is a bit fuzzy, but I can just make out the dark room in which I sit. There is a surprisingly soft surface beneath me, but I can't tell what it is. . .

My head feels so heavy. . .

There's a sudden flash of movement, something dark crossing before that white blur across from me (I'd assume its a window, but even that much thought causes my brain to almost seizure), and without warning there is someones face before me, close, close enough that it isn't too blurry. They have this huge grin on, one of relief, I think, but-

". . .Link?"

The smile grows wider, "Yeah."

"How long. . .?"

"About a week, Sheik. Get some rest, your still sick."

"I-I'm alright-"

"I'm serious, Sheik. I can feel your fever from here. Get some rest, you'll be better in the morning."

I vaguely remember talking some more, as Link pushed me down into a laying position again, returning the blankets up to around my shoulders, but I can't recall just what was said. I do remember that Link was grinning the whole time, looking happier than I have seen him in a while, and that he sat on the bed's edge while my eyes began to close. I must say that I am glad he _did_ speak to me though - I can't really remember what happened, but I do remember that it was _dangerous_ and it was so much of a relief to see him alive and well (okay, he _was_ a bit pale, even I noticed that, but he is alive).

I'll have to talk to him when I wake up - not that I'm completely asleep right now. On the verge thereof. I'm just. . .so tired, but relieved.

But, there's this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. . .I _know_ there's something wrong. . .Something bad's going to happen. Maybe I even saw it in my dreams - not that you can really call the usually fragmented visions _dreams_ - but I can't remember. I have a feeling whatever it was is going to be important. . .There's this heavy weight in my heart. Dread.

I'm afraid and I don't know why. . .

Something's going to go wrong.

* * *

_A/N : Complete and utter crap, I know, but I've been having some problems recently. 1) Grade A writer's block/artist's block. It's a pain. Nothing sounds very good right now. . .Hell, notice how short this chapter is? That's one of the results of this little (yeah, right!) block of mine. That, and this chapter was _not supposed to end this way!_ It like, completely twisted itself around on me. 2) I am actually opening my own small business. Yes. I am opening a Pet Store! Woot! (Its gonna be called Jawanna Fish) Anyway, that is also taking up a lot of my attention, recently._

_Oh, and I might redo this chapter, if anyone else agrees with me on how craptacular it is. Yeah. Just give the word, and it will (eventually) be replaced._

_Oh yeah, that one section in italics was a dream. Sheik's dream, actually._

_Thanks for reading, and please leave your opinion in a review. Thanks so much!_


	57. Chapter LVI Shanis

_**Trial of a Man**_

_Chapter LV _- _Shanis _

_

* * *

_

_Better Late then Never. _

_

* * *

_

One week later, Link and I stand at the edge of the port town of Tonvik, where I have some business yet to do, and where we have to catch a boat.

One week later, Link and I stand at the edge of the port town of Tonvik, where I have some business yet to do, and where we have to catch a boat. 

Of all the days to come here, we just had to choose the day of a storm. It wouldn't be so bad were we somewhere where it is at least moderately warm, but instead we are stuck out here in this freezing wind and pouring rain, soaked to the bone.

I glance over at Link, then at the soaked grass at my feet. He was definitely feeling better, almost back to himself as early as five days ago, but I took much longer to head from my wounds. The injuries weren't that severe, but instead it was the poison that kept me in bed for so long. Apparently, Link was exposed to it a lot when he was younger, so he has worked up something of a resistance to it, and I have to say that this is _my _first time being poisoned by _anything_, never mind a Demon.

Link, on the other hand, probably has a lot of experience with Demons and poison. More than a lifetime's worth.

I release a sigh I didn't even realize I was holding, and look back at Link again. The rain's hitting him hard, almost hiding his figure. Despite how dark it is out, I can still make out his face. His one eye won't open as wide as before - medic said that it is just the side effect of his injury, that it should cause him no trouble - but it's hardly noticeable if you don't look for it. His white jacket is a little torn and frayed, despite our hosts - Goddesses bless those people for taking us in and healing us like that, I don't think we would have made it otherwise - best attempts to fix our clothes. I assured them that a few little rips didn't matter, but now I guess I'm glad that they made the effort. I would hate to have a few more holes in my clothes for this damn rain to seep into.

Link turns his glance towards me, and we share an nod before we descend the hill upon which we stand, and head into the busy town of Tonvik.

* * *

It has been a long, tiring week (and a long tiring six hundred years, too) and now I am glad that we are finally in Tonvik. Sheik's just gotten up to go see about getting us rooms from the bartender/inn keeper, leaving me to my ale. 

It's the usual pub, though quieter than the one's I'm used too. Same noise, but it's quieter, somewhat more aloof. Not that it really matters to me, I'd prefer to be alone (well, except for Sheik. He's my friend, after all) than talking to people I don't even know. But besides the noise, everything else is the same; same old musty air and same old hardwood chairs that just make you want to leave sooner. The drink's a bit watered down, but after so long almost any alcohol will probably get to me quick (when _was_ the last Time I had a drink?)

My hands idly scratch at the wooden table top, roughly chipping off large slivers of wood from it's dry, aged surface. The seat's uncomfortable, the drink's watered down, and the table's a mess.

Reminds me of Sanctuary.

Taking a deep breath that I change into a yawn, I find myself. . .Bored. Not to be unexpected, really, me and Sheik have just spent a week traveling (well, not really, but it feels like it's been an eternity already) and now I'm in a nice warm bar and Sheik's still not back from getting us our rooms. No big deal, I guess. I'm just bored because. . .

Because. . .

_**You have nothing to do?**_

Yeah, that's it.

"Thanks, bastard," I mumble under my breath, before taking another sip of my what I've now deemed awful drink.

**_You _should_ be thanking me, I'm what made you strong enough to survive that poison. Without me-_**

_So you say, but why should I believe you? Besides, I _don't care.

_**A bit pessimistic, aren't we?**_

. . ._screw off._

Dark Me seems to get the hint and disappears to the back of my mind rather quickly and surprisingly without much fuss. I pause mid sip, before shrugging and continuing. Damn, this stuff is awful. Tastes like-

"What do you mean?" A woman's voice shouts from my right, though it sounds distinctly. . .bossy? Tomboyish? "I did _not_ cheat you of your money, you crazy Sheikah. I _won_ fair and square!" I turn to glance, and find myself staring at a bit of a scene. A tall Gerudo woman with two big scimitars strapped to her waist (and one of them's rather fancy. Catches my eye with a gleam I can't describe), her arms crossed and a fat coin purse attached to her belt. I another sip and watch on as three men before her glare.

"Of course you cheated, how else could you win twenty hands in a row? You dirty harlot, give us back our hard earned money!" One of them shouted, taking a step forward, hand ever so slowly moving for the dagger at his waist. Rather unimpressive. Does he hope to out fight her just because he has two buddies? He's gonna be slaughtered.

"If it's so precious to you, why are you wasting it? You're an idiot of a Sheikah, if I've ever seen one, and you don't deserve your money. Besides, you lost and now it's mine."

"Bitch," One of his buddies steps forward, "It's _our_ money, and now hand it over if you don't want to get hurt."

The Gerudo sighs, and I cast a quick glance around. A single Gerudo? I know that this world's different than my own, but weren't Gerudo kinda like pack hunters? At least, that's what I thought. I didn't think that they would be stupid enough to travel on foreign (Sheikah?) lands by themselves. That's kind of like a death sentence, if any of the hostility between the two races that I've heard of is true.

"Really, you shouldn't be picking fights with us Gerudo," the woman lectures, her hands on her hips, "You should know how tough we are. We beat you in the Third War."

"You whore, you just caught us by surprise, we beat you in the Second!"

"After you lost to us in the First!" She replies, shaking her head, hands moving to her waist for her blades.

Sip.

They move forwards and she reacts by whipping out her scimitars at an unbelievable speed. They clash in the middle and already the Gerudo is moving to counter the attacks of the Sheikah's (Sheikah? He sure doesn't look like one) buddies. She counters attack after attack, putting a good show as she toys around with them, spinning her blades in what could be considered a show.

"Hey Link," I turn quickly at the voice to face Sheik.

The bar's in havoc all around us.

"Our rooms are ready. I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed." I nod.

"When's our boat leaving?"

"In about three days," he replies, "Anxious?"

"Yeah. Can't wait." I take the final sip of my drink, and hoist myself up off my chair.

We leave the brawling gamblers to their games, walking right through the large crowd watching the pathetic bar fight.

* * *

The second evening's not much better than the first, if at all. I spent most of the entire day sleeping, and now that it's nightfall I find myself alone again as Sheik's off talking to some off duty waitress - Sheik, a woman's man? I would never have guessed. He always seemed to be the kinda guy that needed to be chased for a couple of years before he ever thought of dating, but a few minutes? - and the bar's just as quiet as it was yesterday. 

At least. . .Before the fight.

That Gerudo woman's no where in sight tonight, and I wonder absently if they kicked her out. Mild curiosity peaks when I wonder if she really did cheat or if those other people were just upset over loosing their money, but it doesn't really matter and the line of thought soon drops.

The ale's warm and so's the stale air and the company is generally miserable tonight (not sure why, but some people have been really grumbling as of late) but at least the air outside is clear and though it's cold it's not raining.

I guess that's not important either, seeing as I haven't left the bar all day.

The ale goes down quicker tonight than last, but that could be due to a lot of things - I was really sore and hungover this morning, despite only having a few (I used to have a bit of depression back in Sanctuary, and got into being a _real_ drinker) - one of which could be that feeling of rising dread in my gut.

Dread over what?

Beats me.

All that I know is that I'm tired and that I just want to get moving. I don't know why - I don't even remember _why_ I'm going to Temal - but there's some urge to keep moving. I doubt either Baal or Tyrael is dead, and that's probably a large part of my concern, but despite everything I tell myself and the worry rising in my stomach, making the ale taste cheaper than it is, I can't seem to bring myself to move out of this chair, or to stop staring at the old wooden table, faded from what was probably once a nice, colorful brown to it's current ashen state.

At least _they _haven't been bothering me recently.

I momentarily wince, expecting for one of them to take that as a cue, but it appears that both Dark Me and Malon are too angry with each other to even bother me. They got into a big fight last night - kept me up halfway to dawn - and haven't said a word to me or to each other since. It's been peaceful, and defiantly welcome respite.

I take a look up towards where I last saw Sheik, who is still being fawned over by his lady friend. They look like they're having a good time (though Sheik looks like his usual cold as ice self), and I really don't mind. Sheik can go and have all the fun he wants, I was just a bit surprised when he told me with a gleam in his eyes that he managed to 'hook himself up with one of the waitresses'.

I really didn't see him as the woman chasing type.

I stare again at my drink which by now has lost all of its foam, and then towards the old wooden stairs that lead up into the inn part of this establishment. I push all my weight down on my hands, and force myself to my feet, stretching. I might as well go to bed, seeing as we don't leave until tomorrow morning. Sheik managed to get us a boat ride out of here, but we have to be out by dawn, and so I might as well get some sleep so we can get out of this boring hole of a place.

The stairs creek under my feet as I run a hand through my hair and enter my room.

* * *

_Twitch._

Noises, grunts and banging and . . .squeaking?

My eyes open wide, blink, and reopen, peering into the darkness all around me.

_My room. . .But what the-?_

More banging, and an awfully loud moan.

_Oh. . .Well, um-_

More squeaking. A bed squeaking as though someone was-

I rollover and pull my pathetically small pillow up and cover my ears.

* * *

Morning comes and before I know it both me and Sheik are standing on the main deck of the large ship, watching the horizon fade away. Sheik's got his arms crossed, probably to keep him warm from the cold wind, and I find that it's Times like this I wish I had a shawl of my own to hide behind. 

Sheik woke me up earlier, telling me that we had to get ready if we were to make it to the ship in Time. He explained to me that this Time of year was treacherous, there were a lot of storms out at sea and that if we missed this ship it would be a long Time before the next ship set sail. Thus, it was important that we caught this ship otherwise we would be waiting as long as two months, or maybe even more.

I hadn't the courage to ask him what happened to his lady friend, but I think I have a pretty good idea. I didn't think that he was _that_ kind of a man when it came to women, but who am I to say what he should do? If he want's to love them and leave them, then so be it.

Still surprises me though. . .I would have thought that it would have taken one tough bitch to break through his shell.

Either way, the two of them kept me up most of the night with their. . .noises.

The moment gets awkward (as wild and depressing as some of my Time in Sanctuary was, I never did _that_) and I force myself to change my train of thought. Soon enough the embarrassment goes away, and nodding to Sheik, I move out of the harsh wind and down into the lower decks of the ship, looking for my room. If I remember correctly it should be just down these stairs and to the right. . .

Apparently this trip should only take a week. Temal is on a cape to the west that's not really all that far from Tonvik, if you were traveling by ocean. However, if by foot you have to bypass mountains and forests and swamps. . .

I might not be a big fan of boat rides, but this is sure a lot quicker than the alternative.

Leona said something about figuring out what to do next in Temal. I hate these wild goose chases. Why can't everything I need be all in one spot? It would make things so much simpler, really. I could be done in a day, even, though I suppose fights would be hard. Every nemesis you ever need to beat all in the same room together? Difficult battles, I would think. Ten or so guys ready to kick your ass all at once.

I yawn and stretch. I'm not really that tired, but it seems like riding on boats makes me feel exhausted. I think I will go and lay down for a while, and I'm cold anyway. I can't just draw the Hellplague here, in the middle of the ship and not expect any trouble. The blankets should help keep me a little warmer.

Soon the door of my room appears before me, and I open it without hesitation. I scowl once the door swings open, the immediate smell of rotting wood greets my nose. My room is in somewhat good condition, though, but the sailors must have also made it like the secondary storage room, cause there are a few extra barrels in one corner, all looking like they haven't been touched in a long Time. I bet the _Hellplague_ that that's where the smell is coming from. I feel like should be mildly offended, but I don't really feel up to it at the moment.

Moving over to my bed, I ignore the creaky floor boards and the tossing of the ship and plop right down into my bed. It's cold, but that's a good thing I guess - it would be worrisome if it were already warm - and I quickly lean back, moving my body just a bit under the blankets, to keep my legs warm.

_Though its really my hands that are so cold._

I put my palms behind my neck for support, and lean against the wall. You know, this isn't that uncomfortable, really. A bit chilly yet - once this blanket warms up that won't be a problem any more - and plus, it gives me plenty of Time to think.

_**You've been getting enough Time for that already.**_

I automatically roll my eyes, _Now what do you want? You've been blissfully quiet the last few days._

A smirk, **_Admit it, you've missed me._**

_You're delusional. Really. But now that you're here-_ Where else _would_ he be? _-maybe you can answer a few questions for me?_

I expect him to get angry, refuse, or something, but I must admit I am surprised when he mentally shrugs - I will _never_ get used to that - and replies, **_Go ahead, I have more than enough Time on my hands._**

_Me too, now listen. You have not been very helpful in telling me exactly _what_ Farore chose me for. Now, why did she choose me, and for what?_

His mood sours immediately, **_I _told_ you, she chose you over me. That's it._**

Again I roll my eyes, _Chose me over you for what?_

I can _feel _him smirk, **_Maybe its best if you just find out for yourself, Brother._**

I can barely feel the scowl forming on my face, _Tell me!_

_**. . .No.**_

_Come on!_

_**Nope.**_

_Come _on_, tell_-

_squuuueaak._

My eyes snap up from the blankets to the far side of the room.

_Wha? Oh, must have just been the ship rocking._

_**I wouldn't be so sure if I were you.**_

_What are you saying?_

_**Just that I wouldn't be surprised if you get bitten in the ass in the near future.**_

I am about to snarl at him when Sheik barges through the door. I silently curse, before my frown drops when I see the look on his face.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he hisses, "Nothing except for that there's apparently a storm heading for us. Will delay our trip, if we're lucky enough to survive." He sighs, sitting down on the edge of my bed and crossing his arms, fixing his eyes to the floor.

I shrug, "We've survived worse then a storm," It's true, "When's it gonna hit us?"

"Well, we can't go back, that would be heading right into it," Sheik looks pissed, "Or so they keep telling me. They think maybe by the end of the week. . .Hell, who knows. It could strike at any time."

"That's. . .Well, not the _best_ news I've ever heard," I reply, moving my gaze from him to the little porthole. A bit gloomy outside, but nothing serious. . .At least not that I can see, "How much will it delay us?"

Sheik scoffs, "And how am I supposed to know that? It's hard to tell if we'll even make it to Temal at all."

"Like I've said, we've seen worse."

"Yeah, I know. . .That doesn't make it much better though."

"It's just a ship ride. We've almost-"

**_Almost doesn't count you should have _died-**

"-drowned when we first came to Hyrule, and we almost drowned on our way out. No boat sinking can stop us that easily."

Despite his cowl still being up, I can almost see Sheik smirk, "True."

"So. . .Is this why you barged into my room?"

"Well. . .Hey, why are you laying down? Going to bed so soon?"

"Nah," I shrug, muscles relaxing as the waves shake the ship in a very lulling way, "Just a little cold."

"Hn. . ."

"What?"

I sigh and blatantly roll my eyes - Sheik blatantly ignores it - and sit up, "There's nothing wrong. It's not like there's anything we can do about it, anyway. Take away the sword, my hands get cold. Pull it out, and we'll have a bunch of crazy sailors think that we're planning murder."

"I doubt they would think that-"

"You'd be surprised."

Sheik looks at me, one eyebrow quirked, "Really? You sound like you know a lot about mutiny and murder. Please, tell me more oh gracious wise one-"

_whack!_

Sheik glares at me after removing my pillow from his face.

"Asshole," I smirk.

"You too," he replies, pulling his cowl back up properly over his nose. I know he's just pretending to be pissed off.

"So. . .One whole week. . .What to do. . .What to do. . ." I let my eyes ever so unenthusiastically wander over the whole room, "Man, we are so going to be bored out of our minds. . ."

"Yeah, and not a lady on the ship even. Bad luck they say-"

"Yeah about that," my eyes focus on Sheik, who for one brief second looks surprised, "I didn't know that you were that forward with the ladies. Tell me, how do you manage to do it? Do them then leave the next morning? Do they know ahead of Time-"

He smirks, "No, not at all. Promises of love and grandeur, all gone at mornings light," he sighs, ever so dramatically, "Kinda silly, isn't it?"

I nod.

"They fall for it every time."

The way he says it brings a smile to my face and I let my thoughts wander. A week - or more - and absolutely nothing to do. Maybe this isn't really that much better than the bar after all-

"_Not much better? I'm sure that there are plenty of ways to relieve your boredom,_" I glance up and my eyes widen as I see Malon crawling up the bed on all fours, her pose supposed to be seductive but seeming much more _scary_ in its own rights- "_Let's play a game, Little Hero,_" Her smile is toxic, "_I'll be the Good Guy, and you can be the Ba-_"

"Link, something wrong?"

With a slight start I glance up at Sheik's concerned face. Off, in the corner of my eye, I can still see Malon but now she's sitting half cross legged, looking mildly (or severely) pissed. I ignore her, and concentrate on Sheik with a forced smile.

"Yeah, fine."

"There's something you're still not telling me, isn't there?"

"No."

"Be serious! Come on, you can trust me," he replies, looking somewhat desperate. I sigh.

"No. There's nothing wrong, okay?"

"Does it have to do with. . .?"

"Probably."

"I see. . ."

_No you don't-_

-_But he's _trying-

"Sheik?"

"Yeah?"

". . .Do you think there's a way to cure _it_?"

* * *

Early in the morning, three days later, the storm hit.

The sailors seem to be quite surprised with how quick it caught up with us, but I don't really find myself at all surprised. The weather has always been too unpredictable in my mind. No one will ever be able to understand the wills of the Goddesses and the wrath of their storms.

I scan the surface of the soaking wet deck, glancing over just in time to see Link emerge out from the lower decks. I cock an eyebrow - why would he want to come up here during such weather? - but mentally shrug it off and walk slowly towards him, ignoring both the uneven level of the deck and the wet sloshing beneath my feet.

"Link? What are you doing up here?"

He looks towards me, then all around us. He scans the sky first, eyes wandering over the gloomy clouds and the blasts of lightning that periodically burst through the fog. His eyes lower to mine.

"Something woke me up."

"The storm?" Duh.

He shakes his head, "No. . .Something else."

Almost as soon as the words are out of his mouth and just as I can begin to see the worry on his face there's a high pitched shrieking and I find myself whipping around, daggers raised just in time to meet the oncoming blow from some. . .thing. It's big, it's black, it's mean and it has wings _way _too small for its body. It has a large scimitar in it's hands, bluntly shaped and yet it looks decidedly sharp, and my daggers are no match for it as it shoves my hands out of the way and with amazing speed raises its own weapons to strike for the final blow.

Before any killing wound can be struck, I catch a quick glimpse of a red blur-

_The Hellplague-_

-And suddenly Link is between me and this monster, fighting like a pro. He blocks it's strikes and is quick enough to move and counter attack, slashing it deeply in the arm, thigh, and rib cage.

The thing howls, swinging it's weapon right back at him. He blocks the blow, his strength barely able to keep up with the monster's, but he manages to buy enough time to glance over his shoulder, and gaze back at me.

"He's here."

It took me only a second to realize just what he meant by that, but suddenly I hear a cackle behind me, and I gaze up to the higher platform of the deck, up near the wheel. There, stands Baal, in all his loathsome glory, tentacles emerged from his starved body, slick from the rain. Even from this distance, I can see the smug smirk that appears on his face as the sky above us flashes with lightning. The moment - almost surreal in its own way - ends quickly, and suddenly he points towards us, malice on his shriveled face, teeth bared.

_Get them_!

And Goddesses help us, the decks, lined with hideous creations, charge right for us.

* * *

I twist and twirl my blade, blocking the attack of a large opponent. What were these things called again. . .Venom Lords? Sounds about right - I twist and dodge to the side, narrowly evading the attack, before spinning about and slashing deep into the beast's back. The thing howls, but doesn't fall.

Not surprising.

_I hate this shit. . ._

It wouldn't be quite so bad if it were just these monsters. I've fought bigger groups before and have won, emerging beaten, scarred, and burned, but Baal is standing up on a higher deck, constantly casting his infernal magic and cursing me.

No way to cure a curse, except to let it pass - or to see some kind of healer, but I doubt I can find one here.

Before I can even continue to finish off the Venom Lord at my feet, I hear a clatter behind me and turn just in Time to block the attack of some other demon, smaller than the Venom Lord but much faster with a similar weapon, and I back flip out of the way just as they swing towards me. Their own blades clash, and I grin as they snarl at each other, before both turning towards me and charging.

All around me are the sounds of battle, the hard, harsh grunting of bodies tired and sore forcing to continue forward, the inhumane sounds of the beasts that fight me, Sheik, and the sailors. There's the enchanting, harsh sound of metal against metal, snarling and growling as anger takes over.

I manage to block yet another attack, ducking under the smaller creature's attack, before rising behind him and stabbing the foul thing through it's spine. The Venom Lord spins about, slashing but missing and I get an ample opportunity, and I use it. I strike, taking the thing's hand off and it's weapon drops down to the ground with a clatter.

In it's confusion, I slam the blade of my sword deep into it's gut.

The thing falls and I join yet another battle.

I can hear Baal laughing and chanting, strengthening my foes and weakening me. I can see the way he's using magic against us - mostly against Sheik, whose using every bit of skill he has to dodge the large fireballs (he must _really_ hate Sheik by now) - and I silently curse him under my breath.

_This _is a losing battle.

I nearly loose my head due to my distraction, and it takes every once of skill I have to dodge the weapons raining down on me. I dodge, flip, twist, and maneuver in every way possible and I just make it out of that ambush by the skin of my _teeth_.

_Gotta warn Sheik. . .We can't win this, Baal's too serious this Time. If he weren't here. . .But what can we do? There must be _something-

I dodge an incoming blow, and ducking behind a barrel, I roll the thing down the slant (the boat's tilting like crazy in these high waves and strong wind) and it manages to strike an enemy hard against his legs. It goes down with a grunt, and seconds later a sailor descends upon it, stabbing the damn thing without mercy.

_Not that it deserves it._

What to do, what to do. . .I dodge yet another strike, wincing as I feel the blade graze the flesh of my shoulder, and manage to slash the thing in the throat, and continue to flip away as another creature behind it strikes at me.

Gotta be something.

Suddenly my eyes light up.

_Probably won't work, but it's worth the shot._

I gather all my energy in my palm. . .

"_Din's Fire!_"

I strike my palm into the wet wood below, and for one frightening, harrowing second - there's a monster right behind me sword drawn and I don't have _Time_ to move - and suddenly the wood all around me lights right up with blazing flames. The heat is scorchingly hot, licking at my hands and face with such desirable heat, and all around me enemies - and some cases sailors alike - begin screaming. I chance a look up at Baal - protected from my own fire, standing in an untouched ring of calm within the storm - and I can see the worry in his eyes.

The fire's quickly catching on, spreading across the wooden planks like a cancer, heading even to the upper deck of the ship. I watch with a smirk as it approaches Baal - not even a demon's fire can resist that of a Goddesses' - and he steps back, nervous. All around me are the screams of the dead and the dying but I don't care, I can't help but stand there with that smirk on my face-

_**As much as I usually push for a thing like this, you're running out of Time. . .**_

My eyes widen and my smirk fades as I see what Dark Me means. There, Baal is cornered against the ship's railing, but in one hand he holds up Sheik, high off the ground, anger radiating throughout his features. With a harsh, violent motion, he throws the Sheikah - right into the middle of the furnace. Worry sears itself into my features, and I take off at a dead run, heading right towards the fire myself-

I leap over dead bodies, dodging the burning walls of fire, and as I reach the end of my stretch, I _jump_ diving through the fire and snagging Sheik in mid-air, but the force behind my movement saves us from the flames and we go flying forward, landing hard against the wood.

Which immediately breaks beneath us.

I drop, hit the ground, and groan. Less than a fraction of a second later, Sheik slams into me, hard, and nearly crushes me deeper into the wooden floor.

I groan again.

He quickly gets off of me, and helps me to my feet.

"Sorry. . .And thanks."

I smile.

"Hey, what are friends for?"

There's a sudden rumble from all around us, and it is only then do I realize that we're standing in about an inch deep of water.

Goddess damned ship had to choose _now_ to sink!

Sheik glances down the hall, before facing me again.

"What the hell are we gonna do?"

"I don't know-"

There's a sudden screeching and a monster falls through the hole above, still on fire and heading right for me. I quickly draw my sword and deflect him to the side with a powerful swing. His torn, burning body lays there on the soaked wooden floor like some kind of cruel joke. Some kind of. . .irony, that I just can't place.

"Well, we have to get out of here-"

"Thank you for that obvious insight," I snap, resheathing my sword, "But the question is _how?_"

"Well, there is always the dingy."

I sigh, "Sheik, I'm quite sure that if Baal can catch us on a sailing ship, he will _murder_ us on a dingy."

"Um, yeah, I guess so. . .There's gotta be another way-"

Another loud rumble and a crack of thunder. The sounds of battle aren't lessening.

My eyes widen, " Sheik, I got it!" I quickly turn to face him, "I think I can use Din's Fire to destroy the boat! Baal would have trouble following us if he was trying not to drown, wouldn't he?" I grin, feeling bizarrely brilliant.

It's Sheik's turn to glare back at me, "And what if you destroy the dingy, Link? Then will be right next to him, drowning as well." He crosses his arms and waits for an answer.

I grin back, sheepish, "Well, uh-"

_Well, look who _I_ found,_ We both whip around to come face to face with the Lord of Destruction, Baal, himself. He stands tall, menacing, and confident, his own arms crossed and his eyes glaring but a bizarrely happy smirk on his face, _Thought you could out run me, Hero? Unlikely. Already I have healed from Tyrael's assault, and now nothing stands between us. . ._

"How can you _not_ die," I shout back, purposely ignoring the near illiteracy of my words, "Tell what it will take to _kill you_, so we can just get done with this!" I draw my sword, and fall into a ready stance, my feet shuffling. My only sign of nervousness breaking through the mask of bravery (more like bravado). Baal gives me a once over, eyes more inquisitive and calm now.

That_ is one of our virtues, Hero,_ His eyes go hard, _But patience isn't. This is the _last_ time I will offer you this, Hero,_ He outstretches one of his arms, and I take a step back, _One last time, I will offer for you to join me._ He smiles, the motion twisted, malicious, _One last time to join me without force. . ._

I take another step back, sword raised in a defensive position as I frown, "Go to Hell, asshole," Before I swing at him with my sword.

He _flies _backwards (okay, _floats_) out of my reach and raises one scaly, gnarled hand, _That was your last chance to come willingly, Hero,_ And less than a moment later a fireball the size of my head comes flying right towards me. The Hellplague - seeming almost as of its own will - rises and blocks the attack, the demonic fireball bursting against the silver white blade. I can feel a sudden surge of warmth travel through the steel (?) and straight to my hands, but it doesn't hurt. Instead, it feels rather good.

Baal sneers, and before I have a chance to move (again) he brings up both hands and chants a single solitary word-

_Ice?_ My brain translates just as the wave of freezing wind blasts into my body and throws me back towards the ship wall and I smash into a bunch of barrels. I sit up, ignoring the multiple sharp edges poking into my body, instead trying to sit up. Over my entire body is a thin layer of frost.

_Damn. . .That's _cold.

_**Well, thank you for yet another brilliant-**_

_Shut up!_

Baal's eyes widen ever so slightly, as though he _heard_ me. A smile coats his slimy face, _Well, Hero, isn't that interesting. . ._ He moves over to me but just before he can close the gap and maybe elaborate on what the hell he's talking about, Sheik suddenly is right there, behind him and with a quick maneuver he quickly jams a fistful of throwing knives into the Demon's back.

Baal howls and veers off course, turning around and slashing in an attempt to get Sheik, however, he's able to duck under the Demon's claws and roll to the side, springing off the floor and standing upright between me and Baal. I ease myself up to my feet, standing right behind my friend.

The Demon sneers yet again, lashing out towards the Sheikah, who yet again dodges out of the way but this Time I'm ready and as soon as my friend has moved suddenly I'm in action too and I watch with amusement as Baal's eyes widen as he sees my sword in line with his face but there's nothing he can do in Time. My blade strikes deep into his should, hacking far into the flesh.

Baal _screams_ and pulls himself off of my blade and away from me, bleeding rivers of crimson blood down his arm. The water at our feet has already turned a dark, deep red. His face twists into a snarl, one arm clutching the other.

_Lucky shot, Hero, but you are no match for me. I _will_ win in the end!_ With that he again raises his arms high into the air and chants, and the next thing I know everything goes blazing white, searing and painful as an explosion fills my ears. The last thing I feel is the water filling up into my lungs.

* * *

_Stupid Sheikah,_ She sighed, pulling up her soaken body on to the large slab of surviving wood. Her uniform was soaked, and that did_ not_ go as planned! Well, the appearance of. . ._that_ was definitely not expected, but she was thinking that this was going to be an easy trip. Stow away on the ship and then once at Temal she could just get out of the damn barrel and walk off.

_No Sheikah can take me on,_ She smirked, ringing out the legs of her uniform, and her hair. She was soaked and it was cold and _damn _the wind was strong, but some shelter's better than no shelter, and she'd rather be freezing on a slab of wood then freezing and drowning in this ocean. She sighed, and sat back. This is one of the few times she wished her uniform had long sleeves, but regulation (and situation) had the Gerudo's dressed in light, easy wear battle uniforms.

_Of course, I just _happen_ to pick the one ship on which hundreds of monsters just randomly decide to attack,_ she sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose as she studied the stars - the sky had cleared up so quickly - _And what was that big one? He seemed to be, I don't know, the boss of them, or something? He fought like a _Demon_, that's for sure. . ._

She sighed yet again, and closed her eyes. The ordeal of escaping that ship as it suddenly exploded was more than a bit tiring - Gerudo were never very hot swimmers, and at first she was sure she was going to drown - and now that she had the chance to relax, she was going to damn well take it.

The gentle sounds of the ocean after the storm were relaxing, and very soothing. . .She could almost fall asleep-

Just as she was about to drift off, there was a sudden, slight jarring of her makeshift raft. Normally she would ignore such a meager jolt, but being on the ocean after what had just happened made her paranoid - _Can those monsters swim?!_ - and her eyes flew open as she bolted upright.

Whew. . .A body. . .Just a normal, Sheikan body. She sighed, and was about to roll over when her guilt got the best of her.

_What if. . .he's still alive?_

_He's a Sheikah,_ She thought back, _He's an enemy._

She tried to remain hard, steadfast, but it didn't work and soon she found herself sighing for what must have been the millionth time, moving over and dragging the well soaked body out of the water.

Cold. Wasn't breathing.

Guilt was welling up again and so, she gave the man a slap on the cheek. Nothing. She tried it again, harder, and this time the man sputtered, fighting for air. She fought both the urge to help him turn over and pat his back till the water cleared out of his lungs or kill this uniformed Sheikah - she was somewhat surprised, she had never seen a uniformed Sheikah before. The Gerudos basically considered all the purebred Sheikah to be deceased - in one swift blow.

He collapsed back on to his back, gasping, breathing, and unconscious. She shook her head, and looked at the water around her.

_Another body?_

Well, she had already saved _one_ man, might as well make it two.

She reached into the freezing water and pulled up another blonde male, about the same age as the first. He _looked_ like he was maybe half Sheikah, half Hylainbut she dismissed the thought. Hylains and Sheikah _never_ mated.

He too, was starved for oxygen, but she didn't have to help him. No, this male in the white jacket came to almost as soon as she pulled him on to her raft, gasping and fighting for air as he nearly slipped off back into the ocean. His bloody hands gripped at the wooden planks, forcing himself back up on to the platform.

As he lay in front of her, still fighting to fill his lungs, he half collapsed, raising his head to face her. He was surprisingly handsome (for a non Gerudo), even though one of his eyes was swollen shut and several cuts bled on his cheeks.

"T-thanks. . ."

". . .No problem, um, Male."

"What's your name?" He asked, his voice gentle and unsurprisingly close to the edge of sleep. She rolled her eyes at his question (Sheikah hated Gerudos and he must be terribly delusional to think she was one of _his_ kind) but answered anyway.

"Shanis," she replied, taking pride in the strength of her desert accent. He looked pleased that she answered, a slight smile on his face as he nodded, and then fell unconscious.

_Men. . ._

* * *

_Huzzah! It is complete! This chapter, I mean. The act, it is still going. So sorry about the delay, you guys, but thanks for being patient! I was a bit busy with work and all, so I hope that you can accept my apologies._

_Um, not much to say about this chapter, except that when Shanis mentioned few 'purebred Sheikah' , what she meant was that there's not many left with the old bloodlines. In other words, the great warrior race of the Sheikahs have almost been completely dwindled down to tribes of bumbling idiots._

_Hylains live by themselves, further to the south and terribly close to the Sheikah's range (which is huge)._

_But anyway, I think that's about it. Thanks again for your patience, and please review! I've missed you guys so much._

_P.s : by the way, a computer virus was one of the things that slowed this chapter down. I'm afraid that I couldn't access D2 either, and so I lost about three of my characters! (Noo!) I'm sorry, Silence Darkness, I couldn't access some of your characters in time to save them. Some of them are still around but a few of yours didn't make it. I'm _so_ sorry! Please forgive me!_

_P.s.s : I think my spellcheck screwed around with this chapter again. Let me know if you find any blantant spelling errors. Thanks._

_P.s.s.s : FFnet isn't allowing me to do my square brackets around Link's and other's thoughts! ARGH! I'm not using it for a script style story! I'm just using these things to make the different trains of thought easier to keep track of! _


	58. Chapter LVII Tale of The Oni

_**Trial of a Man**_

_Chapter LVII _- _Tale of The Oni_

* * *

**So**_" My voice rings out as I cross my arms, "_**Mind explaining just what you are, or do I have to rip it out of you?**_" She is not intimidated by my threat, which she proves by crossing her own arms in return and arching an eyebrow at me._

"I would have thought you were clever enough to figure _that_ out on your own._" She sighs, running her hand through her hair with a flick of her wrist. I scowl at the insult, and divert my eyes to our surroundings._

_We are deep in the dark mists of my little Brother's mind, thick with the haze of forget. . .It is amazing how much he doesn't remember. . .His mind is filled with this fog, and he doesn't even realize it. Even now, I ' stand' (difficult to really do seeing as I don't have a real body to do that with, anymore) knee deep in mist, it's thin tendrils wrapping themselves invitingly around my legs._

"Link is so unaware,_" She replies, "_So many things going on, and he doesn't even have a clue. . ._" She glances up at me, her eyes sharp and painfully bright, "_This mist. . .Surely you know what _it_ is.

_I glance around, "_**It. . .It is a spell of some sort, is it not?**_" I find myself confused, "_**But why. . .Why would anyone want to make him forget?"**

"There are a lot of things you don't know, Dark One,_" She smiles, the image cruel and inviting, "_Think about it. Who controls the Hero of Time?"

_I growl, "_**Farore, Goddess of Courage."**

"Correct. . .Now, why would she want her Hero to forget his past? Why him, and not you?"

"**If you are going to insult my capability of retaining my-**"

"You are even a greater fool than I imagined. . .Think about it. Why him, and not you?"

"**She. . .She is leading him?**"

"Right. She could manipulate him, but not you."

"**Manipulate him for what end?**"

"And here I thought _you_ remembered."

"**Don't play games with me, whore.**"

_She grins, "_She'll play games with you all, to rectify her sins."

_I cock an eyebrow, "_**What are you on about?**

"What could I be, Dark One? Link himself described me once, but you had not yet met with him,_" Her eyes glow with a terrible light, and she dramatically gestures to herself with one hand, "_I was once a memory of his, who at some point during his adventures, merged with his darker thoughts to become one of his inner demons_," I open my mouth, but she gestures for silence, "_However, that's not all I merged with."

"**You. . .You are his-**"

"Diablo did not intend for it to happen, but it has succeeded none the less. I truly am Link's Demon, and every day I pick and pull at his soul, and one day it shall be with great pleasure that I push him over the edge, and damn him for eternity,_" Placing her hands on her hips, she sways ever so slightly and if it weren't for the look in her eyes, I would mistake her for any mortal, "_I, his demonic tendencies, have merged with his own thoughts to form a force powerful enough to destroy his mortal mind. . ._" Her gaze lowers to the ground, and she smiles, the innocence gone and some darker emotion twisting through her face, "_He is right when he says that I do not exist, you know. . .I don't, however, at the same time, I do. . .There is nothing you or him can do to get rid of me, though I think you and I strive for the same goal."

"**And that would be?**"

"The damnation of his soul, and his submittance to the Prime Evils."

_I laugh, the sound loud and echoing in this vast, dead plain,_ "**_You_ have no idea just what I intend to do. . . We shall serve _no _one. I wish only to see why Farore chose him over me, and then I shall kill this wretched body. I do not wish to live forever trapped here, in this. . .My brother.**"

"You won't have any choice, Dark One. Can you really control him?"

_I scowl,_ "**I would rather face final oblivion than become a part of him.**"

"But don't you see? You will never die, not fully. . .Though your mortal flesh may fail, Farore will bring you back. . .Your soul, just like the Hero's, is not meant to perish. . . You would return, again, and again-"

"**Save me the dramatics, Demon, I have already found out what you have said to be true.**"

"Then what-"

"**However, I would also rather become a part of him, then ever serve you. . .You or your master.**"

_She scoffs, "_This, coming from you? I didn't expect this, not at all. I would have thought you to be pleased at the thought of your host being damned-"

"**And again you misunderstand me. I never said I'd prevent him from becoming a Demon, no. . .I'll damn my little brother myself, but there is no way I will let him serve you**."

_Her face breaks out into an expression of fury, "_You can't do that! You _can't!_ I will win, no matter what you do!"

_I smile, "_**What you don't seem to understand that I am much more powerful than you. . .You are a mere representation of Diablo's spell. . .I am a creature older than Diablo himself. Your power pales next to mine.**"

_Clenching her fists at her side, she just about screams at me, "_We will win! He will serve the Master! You are nothing more than an old shade!_" She shrieks, and disappears into nothingness without even so much as a poof of smoke. She simply fades into the mist, retreating (temporarily) defeated into the back of Link's mind and I smile broadly._

"**Yes, 'Malon'. . .What you don't realize is that I do remember so much. . .Not all, but so much more than Link does. . .And I remember** **Farore,**" _I cross my arms and narrow my eyes at this haze, snarling out the name, _**And I'll have to thank you. . .It will take me a while to dispel all of this, but together, my brother and I will remember. . .And we will discover the truth.**"

**_

* * *

_**

It's official. Sheikah and Gerudo make horrible companions.

They haven't stopped arguing. They just go on and on about who is worse than the other, and they rant and rave and Shanis screams while Sheik hisses out his venomous replies and all in all it's just _awful_.

This past week has been just horrible for that reason.

That, and the fact that since yesterday, Dark. . .Me won't leave me alone.

He's been. . .Asking me inane questions. It's very unlike him.

And Malon's been even surlier than usual, and that's saying something.

But as for right now, I don't have to worry about any of that. We've finally reached Temal, and now both Sheik and Shanis have left me be, Shanis storming up to her room (we're currently located in some crap inn) and Sheik muttering darkly to himself as he went off toward the general vicinity of the waitress.

Leaving me here to lean pathetically against the table as I drink myself into a stupor.

Drinking's fun, I've decided. I'm almost back up to my old resistance to the alcohol, but yet I'm already getting drunk. . .And I plan to still drink a whole lot more.

**Never knew you were a boozer.**

_Never knew you were such a persistent ass._

**Oh, ow. . .A bit nastier than usual, I normally have to work you up to that.**

_Fuck off. . .'M not in the mood._

I've only really got the barest of a buzz, but I'm quickly working on changing that. My brother seems to back off (at least, that's what it feels like he's doing) and leaves me alone to continue. I used to be a pretty awful drinker when I was. . .young, and now I'm out of practice. It used to be that the instant anything went wrong, or after a particularly bad battle, you could find me in the bar. I was never as bad as some of the people I met, and I was never violent (angry, liked to swear, but I never _hit_ anybody) but I could get drunk and mope like a master.

That's the plan for tonight.

**Just what's your problem today, anyway? I thought things are going pretty good.**

_Pretty good? What are you talking about? Now that we've reached Temal, I don't know where the hell to go!_

**Okay, sure, but enough to start drinking? **

_I like drinking, thank you._

**No you don't. I can tell.**

_Fuck off._

I take another sip of my drink, lazily sloshing it around in my mouth as I rub my finger around the rim of my glass. The bar is dead tonight, and yet somehow it still manages to be filled by that hazy smoke that smells so awful and dims the lights enough to make the depressing mood that much more substantial. The bartender - I notice, lifting my gaze just long enough to study him - is just about the only source of motion in the room. The rest of us are all slumped over our drinks.

He's cleaning a glass (and doing a horrible job of it), scratching his gnarled fingernails at one particular spot that just won't leave. The man, probably in his thirties, balding and large (fat would be a better word, I figure) looks up at me, his blazing blue eyes questioning. I cock an eyebrow and gesture to my drink, and his mustache twitches in what must be a smile as he prepares me yet another glass.

**A little bit melancholic, no?**

I ignore, and take the last sip of my drink. I can feel my brother fuming, as I wait to receive my third drink of the night, a particularly strong concotion of ale that at first just about dissolved my throat.

_Tastes like shit, too._

I take a gulp of the ale, holding back my urge to gag. The feeling fades quickly though, and I swallow the first sip of a disgusting but terribly strong drink. I pause for a moment, reflective, before:

_Just why are you so damn talkative, anyway?_

A smile, **Just catching up on lost time, brother.**

I sigh, rolling my eyes and letting my head fall into my hand, ". . .you aren't very helpful."

**Funny thing about that. . .No seems to be able to help you, and now here you are with no idea of just where to go.**

My eyes narrow. Even in my slightly intoxicated condition, I am still unable to trust him, _What do you mean by that?_

**No one is willing to help the Hero-**

_Don't tell me you're going to go on about that Hero shit again. We've already been over this-_

**But I am.**

I sit upright, straightening at the words, _. . .What?_ Is he offering to _help_ me?

**Damn right.**

I raise my drink to my lips, unable to erase the frown from my face, _And just how can you help me?_

**I know someone who can assist you.**

_Who are you talking about-_

**But I do not know just where he is. It's been many years since _I _spoke to him, but I know he is still somewhere out there. . .And I also know of just who can direct you to him.**There's a long, silent pause and eventually my frown deepens, and I mentally gesture for him to continue on, **There is a port in this town. On the docks at the harbor you may find an old man. You will recognize him by his blind eyes. He will tell you of a man who can help you.**

_Wait a second,_ I think, taking another sip, _Couple of questions; who is this man who can help me, what do I ask the old guy, and _why _are you doing this?_

I can feel him smirk in the back of my head, and for one brief second I can almost see him again, standing there with his arms crossed and his grin blazing, his eyes glowing that haunting read. Only, in my mind I can see him not as a shade, but almost as a normal person, **Tell the old man you seek information on The Oni**

_The Oni? What are you thinking-? _Before I can finish my sentence, I can hear my brother snickering, disappearing off into the back of my head without another word. I let the sentence drop, and stare down at my half finished drink.

With a final sip, I get up, and head for my room.

* * *

_  
"What do you think about. . .death?"_

_Sheik glances up, surprised and confused at being pulled out of his reverie so suddenly, but he glances towards his companion. Link might not be looking at him, but he knows that the half breed is indeed listening, and it's the first time in days that he's actually said _anything (_except for the horrible screams of agony at night_)_ so he screws the sarcastic comment that rises in his throat and answers truthfully._

_"Death? Well. . .I don't know. It's a funny. . .fickle thing."_

_Sheik grimaces and realizes as the light in Link's eyes fade a little that might not have been the best choice in wording._

_"Yeah, but what do you feel. . .about dying?"_

_Sheik scratches the back of his head, more in an effort to relieve tension than an itch, diverting his eyes, "I. . . Personally, I don't. . .I guess it comes for everyone, eventually."_

_"But what if I don't _want_ to die, Sheik?" The look on his companion's face is almost pitiable._

_"I don't think anyone _wants_ to die, Link-"_

_He stops in mid sentence as his companion (best friend, damnit) looks up at him with a sudden ferocity in his eyes strong enough to make the Sheikah worry about his life like when he first found out about the demon within Link. He can see the effects of the curse now, seemingly so prominent; the slitted eyes, that weird sleekness in his friend's entire body, the aggression, the anger and he wonders why his attempts just weren't good enough, why he couldn't save his friend._

_"What would you do, Sheik, if you found out a way to cheat death?"

* * *

_

When I walk into my room, I find Sheik sitting down on my bed, holding something in his hands. I walk towards him slowly, my eyes on the object in his grip and when he finally notices me he raises his head and stares at me with a truthful, honest stare like none I have ever seen before. It is a bittersweet look, one filled with sorrow but also with hope and I wonder what I did wrong this time.

"Sheik, what's-"

He looks back down to the thing in his hands, which I now realize is a pair of gauntlets. Very familiar gauntlets.

"Link, I want you to know something," he extends his hands out towards me, and I look down at the proffered item, "I. . .You are my _friend_, and I know I haven't been acting like I should. . .I - I understand that what you are going through must be a hard, hard thing, and that I am probably doing nothing by getting so mad all the time," I watch, stunned, as I see the pity, the self anger in his eyes, "I shouldn't have gotten so angry when Leona told us. . .I mean, it's not like you _are_ a Demon right now, right? You are still Link, and. . .I want you to know, I have faith that you _will_ always be Link." I take the gauntlets into my hands, but I don't change the direction of my gaze, "I don't want you to give in, just because I'm being a jerk," the last part is said with a bit of humor, enough to bring a kind of amused half smile to my lips.

"Sheik, I. . .I-" I smile, sitting down on the edge of the bed (next to Sheik with a plop, pretending to stare at the gauntlets in gratitude. There's a moment of awkward silence, before Sheik reaches over and gives me a swift pat to the shoulder. My smile deepens, and I am just about to say something in thanks, when I finally look closer at the gauntlets, "Hey, Sheik, where did you get these?"

Finely crafted out of a golden metal, etched with designs depicting grandeur and the Triforce, I find myself staring at the gauntlets I used to have before all of this mess. The Golden Gauntlets. . .They are still in good shape, their straps only ever so slightly worn and the metal almost completely untarnished, but. . .That doesn't make any sense. . .How could they still be in one piece? I lost them after my fight with Gannon. . .

But nevertheless, I find myself staring at something as old as the ocarina itself.

I can see Sheik shrug out of the corner of my eyes, "I found them a few years back. Some nobleman had them, and well, I relieved him of them. Only a little while before I met you, I exchanged them for a free escape out of Tonvik, but the man I made the deal with backstabbed me."

"That Victor fellow?"

Sheik nods, "Yeah. When we finally made it to Tonvik, I did some research, and found out that he had fled here, to Temal. I kept my end of the bargain, and relieved _him_ of them as well. On my way back, I thought that I should give them to you."

"Why?"

"Well, because I can't use them. They're too heavy."

Somehow, that statement ruins the seriousness of the moment, and I laugh. Sheik looks over at me.

"Hey, what's so funny?"

I grin back at him, "Nothing. . .Nothing really." I raise the gauntlets before my eyes, "But Sheik, thank you for finding these. I used these before, when I was still in Hyrule."

"What? You must be insane. There is no way those gauntlets could be six hundred years old-"

"I know, but. . .I have no doubt that these are the same gauntlets that I had before," I immediately work on strapping on the things, testing the strength of the leather, "They raise the user's strength by a phenomenal amount. With them alone I will be a lot stronger," I smile over at him, hopping to my feet and taking a few practice swings, "With these, it will be so much easier to beat Baal-" I suddenly stop in mid swing, looking back towards my friend, "Oh, I also heard something interesting today."

Sheik is looking off to the side, sounding slightly disinterested as he now rummages through his backpack, "Oh, really? Do tell."

"I was in the bar and I heard. . .Someone talking about some guy down at the docks. Apparently, he knows a lot of things about this area and it's history, and someone said that if I had any problem, he was the guy to go to," Sheik looks rather unconvinced (I don't blame him) so I continue, "he knows a lot in mythology and legends, as well. . .Maybe he can help me, you know?" Sheik cocks an eyebrow.

"Do you know how hard it will be, to find _one_ man? You don't even know what he looks like-"

"You're looking for the old man down at the docks?" I turn about and see Shanis standing in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe with her hands on her hips. It's weird, but in this light, one of her swords seems to glow faintly, "The man with the blind eyes?"

"Yeah. . .How do you know about him?" I ask, staring at her in confusion.

She shrugs, "I went to see him myself, a while back. To see if he was just as knowledgeable as everyone portrays him." She turns to Sheik, "And they're right. That man knows more than a lifetime's worth of myth and legend and truth."

"Do you know where he is, then?" I ask, unable to keep my eyes from lighting up. Shanis seems to notice, but nods anyway.

"Yes, he is right on the edge of the docks, near the eastern port. I can take you to him now, if you like."

I beam, "Sure!"

Sheik looks towards me, his eyes startled and untrusting. Shanis always pulls the worst out of him, "But Link, we still don't even know if we can trust her. I mean, look at her, she's a Gerudo and-"

"What?" Shanis takes a few steps forward, anger in her eyes, "Are you saying that the _Gerudo_ are untrustworthy? Isn't that a bit hypocritical!"

"The Gerudo-!"

I jump up to my feet before Sheik can finish his sentence and make the rest of the night a living hell, "Alright, lets go!"

Shanis nods, and leads Sheik and myself down the stairs, out the door and into the twilight covered town.

* * *

"We're here."

Shanis' voice breaks the gloomy silence, but only manages to add to this place's eerie nature. I take a quick glance over at Sheik (who I can't help but notice seems totally unfazed) before turning my eyes back to the door infront of me. This entire port has been nothing but darkness and gloom and mist hovering about, with eerie sounds and dogs barking off in the distance. We have yet to come across a single person, or animal, and somehow that only adds to the effect.

The door infront of us is wooden, old and worn, the brown faded to more of a gray. The wall to which it is attached is also the dreary color, made out of some type of stone. Chinks are missing from the wall, the stone weakened to powder in someplaces. A window, off to my right, releases a faint orange glow - a sign of someone being home, at least.

I nod, moving forwards to knock. After a moment, I knock again, listening for a response. Just as I am about to turn around and shrug, there is a muffled (but understandable) voice from within.

"Come in."

I frown, moving forward and giving the door a good push. It swings open with a creak that reminds me all too much of some of my dreams (and more of my nightmares) but I continue onward, glad to see both Sheik and Shanis right on my heels. We step inside, feet going from harsh cobblestone to plush, worn fabric.

The inside of this house is actually very cozy, if still a bit strange. The floor - with the exception of the mat I just stepped on) is wooden, and clean. The furniture is made out of some soft looking fabric, free of dust and grime. Straight across from the door is the fireplace, which is currently brightly lit by a blazing flame. On each side of the fireplace are bookshelves, filled with messy piles of books and notes and papers, some of which have found their way to the floor.

On the left hand side of the room is one, long couch, on the other is a chair (conveniently facing that couch).

On it sits a man, still with a cup of tea in one hand and it's saucer in the other.

He stares at me with blind blue eyes (cataracts of some sort, the pupil's not even black now, it's an even lighter blue than the iris), taking a sip of his tea. Otherwise, he remains motionless. I use the opportunity to observe him.

He's an aging, balding old man with a wrinkled forehead and has a scholarly look about him. His nose has that aristocratic arch, his eyes that look of knowing indifference. His clothes - old, tattered robes - show that he might have once upon a time been a man of importance, but now he is nothing more than an old fool living in solitude.

He raises his cup again, and gestures for us to take a seat.

Everyone wordlessly obliges.

"So, at last, the fabled Hero visits _me,_" he states, his voice snide and full of latent anger, "I must be _honored_, I suppose."

Shoving his malice filled words aside, "I have some questions I need answered. . .First, I guess this would be easier if I knew your name."

The old man chuckles, "Still a child, are we? Too focused on the details, Hero, too focused on everything that's not important." He takes another sip of his tea, taking a long moment to swallow, "That will change soon enough, soon enough. Fine than, let's play your little game. I am the Scholar Marcus, and welcome to my humble abode." He takes a mock bow, not bothering to stand up.

"Thanks. . .Now, I was told that you could help me?"

He looks up, his disturbing blue eyes staring a hole right through me. I wonder briefly whether he is actually blind, or just portrayed that way, "You wish to speak about it in public?" He glances towards Shanis, then Sheik, "Well, I suppose if that's your wish-"

"Actually. . .Um. . ." I turn to my friends, "_Can_ you guys leave? This. . .I don't know. . .I need to talk to him myself-"

"What?" Shanis scoffs, suddenly indignant, "Blowing us off so soon? I would have-"

"Come on, _Gerudo_," Sheik speaks, grabbing one of her arms, lifting her up and dragging her towards the door, "If he feels the need, he can tell us all _later._"

Shanis stares back towards me as Sheik drags her off by her collar, her eyes suddenly widening, "Hey, that reminds me, I still know _nothing _about you guys!" She looks over her shoulder at Sheik, her ass still scraping against the ground as she reaches, trying to grab at him.

Whatever was Sheik's answer is cut off by the door slamming shut, and I notice I can just barely hear them arguing outside. Soon enough the noise quiets down, and I find myself alone with this strange, hate filled man.

"As I was saying, Hero," he sighs, reaching for a small table beside his chair which I now see to have a small pot of tea sitting upon it, "There are a great many things I can tell you. The answer is known but it is the question that I am missing. Ask me, and I will tell you what I know." He begins pouring himself a cup full of the brown liquid.

"Well. . .About my. . .Do you know about my-"

"Demonic metamorphosis? Yes, yes I do," he takes a sip of his tea, "Just like your friend, Leona, I can see hints and bits of the future, as erratic and impossible it may be."

I frown, "What, does everyone have the Sight around here?"

He chuckles, shaking his head, "Sight? No. . .I'm just a scholar with a bit too much knowledge floating around my head," he taps at his forehead as if to prove his point.

"So. . .You're crazy, then?"

"No. . .I prefer the term genius, thank you," he raises the cup to his lips, "And I have found exactly what ails you - I know _everything_ about you."

"Well, can you help me, then?" I sigh, running my hand through my hair - a now ingrained habit - "If you know what my problem is then maybe you can come up with a solution, right?"

He settles his cup back down on to it's saucer, balancing on his lap. There's a long, silent moment where he sits, his eyes closed and his hands cupped together, fingers intertwined and it seems like forever before he finally opens his eyes and glares right back up at me.

"There is no solution for your problem."

"What-!"

"There is no solution because this not a disease. Diseases have their weaknesses, and may be killed by powerful magic, healing, or medicine. Once the disease is dead, the body heals and returns back to normal. But this isn't a disease, as your body is not being injured." He takes a sip of his tea, "This is not a curse, either. A curse is a powerful spell that controls or alters the body or mind's condition. A curse may be broken by shattering the spell itself, and once the curse is gone the body reverts to it's old self. But this is not a curse as there is no spell. No, this is not a disease, not a curse, but a _change._ A metamorphosis of sorts. You are not decaying, you are not withering, you are changing. There is no solution because technically, there is nothing _wrong_ with your body. It's just taking a different form."

"Your Triforce piece does not want to allow this, however. It understands what is going on, and so it fights the change, hoping to stop it's progress. It will not succeed, however, as it is just a piece of a whole. It may have part of the power of the Goddesses, but unless the pieces are united, it is still not whole."

"There is no countermeasures, not as long as you yourself give into the change. The more you fight it, the slower it progresses," I open my mouth to say something but Marcus signals for me to remain quiet, "However, it will _still_ progress, no matter what. It is a change, a biological and 'natural' change. Nothing will stop it as it is meant to be."

"So. . .I'm screwed then, right?" I can't help but let my shoulders drop.

"Well, not exactly. There _is_ a final . . ._possibility_, and thus we come to the _real_ reason you have come here. Your change has taken all but _one_ factor into consideration, the interference of a higher being, a deity."

"What?" My eyes widen. I'm supposed to ask one of the_ Goddesses themselves_ to help _me?_

"You were sent here to look for the Oni, weren't you? Yes, I know you were, and I have your answer for you. Do you know what Oni means, by chance?" I shake my head, and he smirks with that smug air that just lingers about him, "It means a higher being, in some of the older languages. Deity, Demon, God. . .There are many different meanings, but it all equals the same."

"So I'm going to have to go and plead with one of the Goddesses for my humanity?"

"No, not at all. Do you think that the Goddesses themselves are the only higher beings in our world? If so then you are a fool." One of his hands goes down to the neck of his robes, which he readjusts absently, "There is a Deity of sorts, and it is through him that you may be able to save yourself."

"How?"

"First you must learn about how the Deity came to be, in the first place, to understand just who - what - he is."

I nod, waiting with anticipation.

"His tale begins soon after The Creation. . ."

* * *

"Sheikah! What was that about-!"

"_Shhh!_" I watch as the Sheikah leans his head right against the door, closing his eyes. I am about to ignore his warning and press further when it suddenly strikes me just what he's doing.

_Oh._

I continue to just sit there, not wanting to make any noise as the Sheikah continues listening, motionless. I personally can't hear anything but I guess with ears that big, they have to have better hearing, or something, at least.

I frown, and whisper, "Hey, can you hear what they're saying?" At first he doesn't respond, but then he shakes his head, his hair swinging around his face. I must admit, he looks almost comical (in a strangely serious way), leaning against the wall like that, using his hands to prop himself against the stone.

"Not much," he whispers, "Something about. . .A solution? I don't know. . .It's hard to hear through this thick door." I nod in understanding, before suddenly catching myself. If he can't hear through the door, then why is he still trying to listen? And why does he have that damnable look of pity on his face? I know Sheikah are supposed to be emotionless, and he's definitely letting something through at the moment. . .

Pity. Definitely pity.

He feels sorry for his companion? But why?

He almost looks angry, too. . .but self angry. . .

So, he blames himself, but for what?

My darker scimitar gleams at my side, sending an excited buzz up my spine, and I look down at it. It's strange, really. . .Ever since we've met up with them, the Masamune has just about been going insane. Every other moment, she is buzzing and humming and just about screaming warnings at me. . .

. . ._Especially_ whenever we're close to the half breed, Link.

Before I really ponder the thought further, another hits me. If whatever she's trying to tell me was _really_ serious, then she would just out and out tell me, rather than all this hinting.

_Well, if she really wants my attention, she can bloody well come out and tell me so!_

I sigh and cross my arms, forming my usual glare and stare hard at the door.

This could be a long night.

* * *

"His story begins aeons ago. . .not much is indeed known about him, but it is said that He was created by the Goddesses as their servant. Their highest guard. He was created to keep them safe, to guard them. He was made of their own powers, and he himself has the strength of a Deity, but he is still their servant and is forced to guard them to the end of eternity."

"It is said that when he was first created, the three Goddesses themselves fought over him, over his power, his strength. All fought for him to be their own personal servant, and in the end, they made an agreement. He was to be the guard of all three of them, but then something happened that they did not expect."

I frown, "What was that?"

Marcus chuckles, the sound terribly smug, "Well, they found out that he _didn't _want to be their slave."

"He rebelled against them, and thus a terrible war began. The Creation against The Creators. It was a terrible battle. The Oni managed to amass a small force, due to the fact that there weren't as many mortals back then as there is now. He managed to sway many of the Hylains, and a number of the Sheikah, while The Three had their own army, consisting of the Gerudo, Zoras, Gorons, and what Hylains and Sheikah remained behind."

"It was a long, horrible, fierce war that lasted seven long years."

"It took them _that _long to beat him with _that_ force!"

"Yes, he was after all their creation, and they underestimated him. He was a bit of all of them, and that power combined made him almost their equal. That, and they quickly learned that he was a brilliant tactician, a warlord, of sorts. The first three years were hailed as the Years of Desolation, as that was while The Oni was at his strongest. For those first three years, he murdered half of the Sheikah population that did _not_ follow him, almost convinced the Gerudo to switch sides, and when they refused, he took their number down to almost nothing."

"It is said that he hit the Zoras - a mythological creature that supposedly existed at the time - the worst. Legends tell that the day he appeared at their domain, he had a long confrontation with the current leader of the Zoras - a strapping young Zoran Hero, unfortunately, his name has been lost to time - during which he mentioned why he hated the Zoras. He hated them for their grace, their willingness to follow the Goddesses. He stated that they reminded him of himself, and that their grace, their posture, their lack of freedom. . .but their acceptance of it was unacceptable. He hated them because they were like him, or _trying_ to be like him, but that they couldn't - wouldn't - fight back. He hated them because of their lack of freedom, and their love of it."

'The Zoras? He hated them because they served the Goddesses?" I scratch my head, "But the rest of the races were the same way."

"No, not the Zoras," Marcus shook his head, "They wished to be _like_ him. They were as graceful as a deity, they were intelligent, and free, yet they would do nothing but follow the Goddesses. They were driving themselves into his position, and he couldn't help but hate them for it."

"Those three years were the worst in history, and he ruled the battlefield. He almost won, but then there was a change. The Goddesses prepared an ambush, and managed to decimate his forces, and confront him themselves. Against all three, he was hard pressed, and while he and some of his troops escaped alive and relatively uninjured, he was in trouble. It was then he started using not only his warfare tactics, but his magic as well."

"Magic?"

"Yes, as he was a Deity, created with the very powers of the Goddesses, he had the ability to manipulate the world around him, just as they did. It was after the first battle with this new approach did he gain his new name. From then on, amongst the Gerudos and some of the Hylains, he was dubbed Hyne, Master of the Arcane."

"Hyne?" My eyes widen, "But that means-"

"It means many things, Link, but none of them very important to your quest. The war finally ended at the end of the seventh year, when he was again cleverly ambushed. He had been expecting defeat at that point, but it was not delivered in the manner that he wished. He expected to be killed, and to have his misery put to an end, but it would not be so. He was kept alive, only to watch his warriors and friends - few that there were - murdered before him, and then he himself was denied death."

"What did they do to him, then? They had to do something, right?"

Marcus smiles, "Oh, they did something, alright. The effects of their final battle caused the world to shatter, creating thousands of different dimensions, different possibilities. Then-"

"Whoa, hold on. If it created thousands of different dimensions, wouldn't he be free again in one of_ those _worlds?"

"No, the split happened after his defeat, and he is a Deity. There is only one of him, while there are copies of the same mortals in every realm. He is the only one of himself, and he was defeated. He became shackled to the world - this world - and was forced to guard it for the rest of eternity." Marcus pauses, taking a long sip of his tea, before falling into deep thought. I stare at him, unable to mask the curiousity in my eyes, waiting for him to continue. After many minutes, he takes another sip of his tea and looks back at me.

"Eventually the Goddesses left our world, leaving him to spend the rest of his eternal punishment alone, remembering his sins and failures with no end in sight." Macus takes a sip of his tea, scowling down at it and pouring a new cup out of the pot, "However, before they left, the Goddesses did one other thing."

I cock an eyebrow, and Marcus smirks in that knowing way of his.

"I know about your. . .darker brother, Link, and I can tell you what he is. When the Goddesses left this world, they left the Triforce behind, and they left it unattended - sort of. Courage and Power and Wisdom were guarded by one person. That shade of a brother of yours. He was left behind to sit in the sacred realm, and guard the Triforce forever, however, there was one case where two people managed to get to the Triforce. A Gannondorf, and a Link." He takes a sip of his tea, his movements slow and contemplative, "I believe Gannondorf was a predecessor to the Gannon you are familiar with, and as for the Link. . ." He sighs, looking vaguely distraught. I can't help but wonder why.

"Dark Link is a modified version of The Oni, weaker, and easier to control. The Goddess were trying their hands at creation again, but this time being infinitely more cautious. Dark Link, or The Shade as I will call him for easier reference, was much easier to control. Not as powerful, nor as efficient, or even as glorious as The Oni, but he would not fail them."

"The Link that fought Gannondorf, however, was a lighter version of The Shade. Designed probably for the protection of Hyrule, from time to time-"

"Wait. . .I'm-"

"Completely mortal, with the exception that every now and then Farore remakes you to defend their creation. The Shade is meant to remain there, forever, guarding the Triforce, and when a man named Gannondorf happened to appear on the land, and began destroying so much, you were created as a countermeasure. You were - are - designed to stop Gannon before he could reach the Triforce, but you didn't manage to succeed, at least, not right away. You finally caught up with the Gerudo right at the entrance to the Sacred Realm, and as you fought with Gannon, he managed to get a hold of the Triforce - but only the Triforce of Power. The other pieces rejected him."

"As yet another countermeasure, you were given the Triforce of Courage, to counter the Triforce of Power. The Triforce of Wisdom was left behind, and thus for a long time The Shade was also forced to stay there, and guard that one single piece. Eventually you killed Gannon, and the Triforce of Power returned, and soon enough, so did Courage."

"Thus has the cycle of you and Gannon continued for lifetimes."

"The Oni himself, despite his power, is not invincible. About three hundred years ago, a mortal man appeared - a Hylain, or so the legends told - and this man was so hateful of his destiny, that he sought to change it." Marcus looks up from the ground, directly into my eyes, and I can see a burning, hateful look in those blind orbs.

"What better way than becoming a Deity?"

I frown (well, actually I've been frowning for quite some time now, but it just keeps getting deeper), Marcus doesn't seem to notice.

"This man sought out The Oni, and clashed with him in battle. . .and won."

"But-"

"It was unexpected, to say the least, and few knew of his success for he inherited everything about his predecessor - including his binding chains and eternal punishment. That hero among men still sits there today, on The Oni's dark throne. He's escaped his death, but will never be free of his chains. He is, in a sense, as chained to fate as any mortal is. He will forever be theirs."

"And. . .how is he supposed to help me?" I ask, "If he can't even help himself-"

"He cannot help himself, but he can save you. He is a Deity. If anyone can stop the change, it would be him. He can actually somewhat alter your body, and maybe even stop the spread of the Demonic Metamorphosis. Of course, without the Demon in you anymore - or it's progression - you will probably fade fairly quickly. What Demon you have in you will prolong your life, but half Demons aren't eternal."

"So. . .I'll die. . .That's what you're saying?" I can't help but grimace. I've never really enjoyed the idea of death. . .But then again, I don't want to live forever, do I?. . .No, I've always been complaining about how I want to finish all this and death is the only way, right?

Right?

"Well, yes, unless you want your body to continue changing on you." Marcus sips his tea, "I can't really explain much to you about the Prime Evils and the Greater Demons, as they, after all, come from a different dimension than I." The cup clinks softly as it comes into contact with it's saucer, "But I do know that that's the only way to stop the Metamorphosis."

"W-where can I meet this. . .Oni?" I look up into his blind eyes and wonder how he seems so able to see, to know everything going on around him.

Surely, once one loses an eye they are blind forever?

Yet he seems so aware. . .about everything.

"He lives far to the south from here. . .If you were to take the boat to the island of Medjim, cross the island and get to the port on the far side, you would be able to catch a boat to the wastelands to the south of that. From there, if you were to travel west . . .He lives on the far, mountainous edges of the Desert Countries. In a tall tower, sculpted to be his prison."

"And he _will_ be able to help me, right?"

"He is your best - only bet. If it were possible, I would send you to the Goddesses themselves, _Hero_, but I'm afraid I can't do that. They left our world aeons ago." He sits back further into his chair, relaxing visibly into the plush material, "And, it's also a matter of _if_ he'll help you, though I don't think he has much better things to do with his time."

"Yeah, I guess-"

"Who knows, maybe he will even help you find your way back to your old time," My eyes light up and I can feel hope welling in my chest, "But now, I think it's best you'd be running along," the old man stands up, gesturing for me to go to the door, "I've done my part and helped you, Hero, though personally I want nothing more to do with you."

I nod, getting the gist that this man does not like just about anyone, when I suddenly stop, hand reaching for the handle. I look over my shoulder to see Marcus pouring himself another cup of tea.

"Hey," I call, "Why _did_ you help me, then?"

He looks up, his blue cataract eyes shining eerily in the firelight, "Lets just say a favor for an old friend, shall we?" He moves back towards his couch, "I've been waiting for you for a long time, Hero, and I know more than I wish I did. . .Once this is all over, I will be in peace." He settles back down, looking as though he never moved in the first place, "I will be looking forward to never seeing you again."

I nod, mostly to myself, and leave the old man to his lonely existence.

I squint as I step out into the dark street, blinking as I look about me. Not far to my right stand Sheik and Shanis, the former leaning casually against the wall, his head down but I can see him watching me from the corner of his eye. The latter is sitting with her legs crossed, one hand holding up her chin as she stares, disinterested.

Both of their eyes light up when they see me.

Within moments, Sheik moves away from the wall and over towards me.

"So," he begins, his voice quiet, "How'd it go?"

I beam, "Sheik, I may have found the solution to my problems. . .all of them," Sheik gives me a pat to the shoulder, and though his cowl is up I can see him smiling in his eyes. And my own reflection, slitted eyes and all.

_A solution to _all_ my problems. . .I'm going home.

* * *

_

_"Did you tell him, then?" _The voice was cryptic in a beautiful, enchanting manner, but he was long used to hearing it, _"Did he believe you?" _He took another sip of his tea, looking up at the glorious figure floating before him.

"Yes, yes Farore. . .I have done my part of the bargain," He took another, long sip, "He doesn't know. . .It's almost pitiful, but now the trap is lain. He will be heading to see The Oni soon."

Farore stared down at him will solid glowing green eyes, her emerald hair twisting about her face in a non existent breeze, _"You have done well, Marcus, and you will be justly rewarded. . .The Act is drawing to a close, but the story is not yet done. I have only begun to set the stage for_ _His_ _return." _Her body, naked but undetailed, like that of a statue, gained an almost sorrowful posture, _"Soon. . .Soon it will be done, And it is all thanks to you, Marcus."_

"If I may, Lady Farore," he put his cup back down on to it's saucer, "I did as you told me too, and he believes the lies, but. . . Why do you wish to mislead him? Wouldn't your plan be more effective if he knew the truth?"

She laughed, _"Poor Marcus, around this world for so long, and yet you have learnt so little. I know the mind of my hero, better than anyone else. . .This is the best way. If I were to tell him the truth, he might simply except it for what it is, and move on, and I cannot have that. I need him to erase my past, Marcus, and if I have to lie to him to achieve that, then so be it. My sins shall be his no longer."_

Marcus, despite his lack of understanding, simply nodded and pretended he concurred, "As you wish, m'lady."

_"And now, Marcus, your reward,"_ She raised one hand, her skin a pale jade color, _"You are free now, Marcus. . .And soon, you will be reunited."_

As the swirl of green magic overtook him and destroyed his body, Marcus smiled freely for the first time in three hundred years.

* * *

_  
A/N : Hey, sorry for the wait yet again, but at least it wasn't two months, right? Argh, sorry, ignore my random burst of anger, but I just had a jerk come into the store saying the same old kinda things (even as I was typing this) and I had an undeniable urge to strangle him. Geez, some people are stupid._

_"Haha, my cat's got real sharp claws, she would just slice him."_

_"That's why most people have _lids_ on their tanks, sir," fumes and just about explodes with rage for no real apparent reason. Maybe because of his ignorance._

_Anyway, as for the Oni thing, I chose to call him The Oni, for several reasons, but the main one being that supposedly Oni means Demon in Japanese (I think), though I don't much care for the actual Oni themselves. In this, it shall mean the Deity, or something like that, whatever you want, really._

_Um. . .let's see. . .I hope it was at least somewhat good, with Malon's nature being explained, and all. I was originally thinking of revealing that in the second act, but then I thought, why the hell not? Basically, Malon (Link's memory of her) over time and throughout the course of his trip through Hell (which would make many people a little unstable) became on of his inner demons, a bit of a mental problem but nothing serious. It was just his mind's way of angsting, really. However, when Diablo sliced Link and started the change, the magic with which he used to start the process (once the metamorphosis began, the magic faded, so it's not a curse) accidently combined with Link's inner version of Malon, and thus it is _that_ part of him that pushes him forward, drives him closer to becoming the Demon._

_I hope that makes sense, cause I just read it over and I can barely understand it. If you still don't understand (which would not be surprising, beacuse I didn't explain that very well) then just let me know through an email or a review or something, and I'll try to explain it better._

_Let's see. . .Anything else. . ._

_Well, either way, Farore is right, we are approaching the end of Act one. . .No clue how many chapters left, but it's getting close. . .Just a question, how many of you (at this point in time) would like for me to continue this story into act two, and act three and such?_

_Yes, Marcus is supposed to be a pompous ass, and yes Shanis has next to no point yet. There'll be more of her in the next chapter._

_Anyway, thanks a lot, and see you next chapter._

_P.s - I can't remember. . .Does Link (in this story) still have the ocarina? I think he does, I don't remember making him lose it, or anything. If you remember, could you let me know?_

_P.s.s - I think my spellcheck may have fucked up yet another chapter. Let me know, will you? (will get around to fixing all the mistakes someday). Also, FFnet gave me some hassle with bolding, italics, and line breaks and all, so if theres any mistakes there. . ._

_P.s.s.s - I'm also thinking of doing side stories for the Oni, cause I think I really like how that sounds. Also, I am working on a second little story, not much of anything, really, though I like it. If any of you are interest, check my bio and soon I should have up the first chapter of "The Void."_


	59. Chapter LVIII Switchover

_**Trial of a Man**_

_Chapter LVIII - Switchover_

_----------_

_This version has now been spellchecked. Thank you for your patience._

_----------_

The rain pours down hard and fast, the water stinging like ice as it plummets to the ground, hitting the old wooden docks that she stands on with a loud noise, like that of a waterfall. As the rain collided with the earth, it rises and creates a thick steam, a sort of fog, and it makes seeing almost impossible. From where she stands, she can't even see where the dock meets the harbor.

_Not that I need to_, she thinks, _I know where I'm going._

Her hand gingerly touches the hilt of the Masamune, feeling it mostly for the comfort of knowing she has a defense, in case some wanna be thugs attack her tonight. She _could _fight without it, but then again, that is the curse of her sword. She _knows _she _can_ fight without it, but the dread and the fear that wells up with the thought are almost overwhelming.

Her eyes narrow as she delves deep into her thoughts. The Masamune, legendary blade that it is, gives her a confidence and a strength that she has never known otherwise, and without the sword she feels its loss. What can only be described as cowardice and weakness would overcome her, and it _hurts_.

_Hurts to know I am so dependent._

Without the sword close by, or sometimes even in her _hands_, she feels its loss acutely.

A curse, or a blessing?

_I will never be able to leave it behind. . ._

A curse, and yet something so great. . .

A loud crack of thunder startles her out of her thoughts, and now despite her thick cloak, she can feel just how deep the rain is seeping, and the chill is starting to get worse. She looks again at where the inn is supposed to be, and then without another thought, darts off towards it, her feet hitting the ground with hardly a sound.

The ground is wet and slippery but she kept her feet just like any self respecting thief would be able to, rounding corners and dodging the suddenly appearing (rain was too thick to_ see _through) buckets and barrels and crates with expert ease.

Dashing under the shelter of an overhanging ledge - a sheet of thick cloth, she noticed, probably to protect the merchants head from weather like _this_ - she calmly slides to a halt, feet sliding across wet stones. The rain continues to pour around her as she stops and begins to ring out the thick material of her cloak, the course hairs smelling something like wet horse.

There is another crack of lightning and the door to the bar opens, revealing a thick, portly old man with a face of black hair. She slips in without a word behind him and he never even notices her.

The room beyond is warm and hazy, filled with the smoke of too many pipes working away at once. There is a dull murmur working its way throughout the tavern, many voices laughing or sulking or muttering or even, in a few cases, crying. Through the thick smoke Shanis can see the bar, on the left wall, about halfway down. The other half of the room is composed of several tables, maybe a total of ten, each able to seat about four or five people.

There are large lanterns in each of the four corners of the room, and two on each end of the bar table.

Somehow, she is not surprised to find her 'comrades' at a table furthest from the light.

As she approaches, she notes almost absently the way that the two are seated; Link sat on her left, Sheik to his right. The former seems almost to be feeling under the weather, his eyes half closed, his head barely supported by one of his hands, face pale and worn looking. Sheik, on the other hand looks much better, and doesn't seem to really notice or be concerned by Link's weird behavior.

She sits down without even really noticing the Half Breed's sickly look.

"So, Shanis," Link kinda sorta mutters, his eyes more focused on his glass of ale than on her, "Did you find out anything?"

She nods, "Yeah. There's been something wrong with the mountain to the south - _biiiiiiggg_ landslide, so they had to close off the roads. No one's allowed through," Sheik stares at her, surprised with the way she seems almost _proud_ of that fact.

"Why are you so happy?" He asks, scowling at her while Link just looks on, "That means we won't be going _anywhere_ until they clear it - however many _months_ from now!"

She shakes her head, large smile on her face, "Nah-uh! You see, there's _another_ passage! I found it a few years back - had some unsavories following me, and I lost them in there. It's a pretty simple place, fairly straight forward."

"So," Link looks up at her for a moment, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, "How come no one else knows about it?"

She shrugs, "Beats me," Without a moment of hesitation, she reaches forward and steals Sheik's drink right out from before his eyes. He stops, somewhat shocked, as she took it to her own lips as though _she_ owns it, "I think its just one of those hidden things - I found some pretty old armor and swords in there, so maybe it was made to transport an army? No way could a whole legion just go _over_ those mountains." He scowls at Shanis as she gives him back his empty glass, not even sparing him a second thought, "Either way, it will work for us. Safer, anyway."

"Safer?" Sheik hisses at her, glaring, "How could that be safer?" He looks up quickly, his eyes meeting with that of the Bartender, gesturing for another drink before he swiftly returns his gaze to her, that hateful look in his eyes again.

She leans back a little, taking off her cloak at last, "Well, all the rocks on the mountain side would be lose, dumbass. We'd get stuck in a landslide if we even _thought_ of going over it, even if we went off the ruined paths."

The Sheikah rubs the bridge of his nose, eyes closed in a painful face, "And how much better do you think it will be _inside_, you idiot? If the outside's collapsing, the inside's probably falling apart too. We'd be caught in a cave in and die. If the rocks don't kill us, we'll suffocate."

She arches an eyebrow at him, "And when are you such a scholar at geography, hm?" Her eyes shape themselves into a menacing glare, "It be much safer inside, and unless you have the pockets for _another _five hundred rupees worth of boating, we have no other choice."

"Hm," Sheik's own eyes narrow themselves back at her, lacking their previous anger and now holding suspicion, "And I am wondering why you are in such a rush? Just what are you planning on doing, Gerudo?" His voice was distinctly accusing.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I have an appointment in the desert, and I don't have too much longer to dilly daddle in taverns like _this_," She motions absently with one hand to the room around them, a note of dislike in her tone, "And from the tidbits - _tidbits!_ Why the heck don't you two tell me anything about yourselves? Geez! - you two have told me, it sounds like your in a rush too."

"Not in that much of a rush," Sheik states, "I mean, not in that much of a rush that we're gonna risk our lives." He looks towards his companion, "Right, Link?"

Link kind of looks up at them, a bit of a glitter in his eyes, "Well, I don't know. . .Do _you_ think its safe, Shanis?"

She nods. He sighs.

"I would like to get this show on the road, really. I'm sick of all this waiting around. No, I'm not in a rush, but," Again he sighs, lazily swirling his drink around in his glass, "But I guess I am running out of time."

The statement catches her attention, but she already knows they're not gonna tell her anything, never mind everything. She lets the moment pass by, but not before cataloging the moment away in her head.

Link looks up again, raising his eyes from his ale.

"Yeah, I guess. . .I guess I am in a rush."

She smiles widely, "Great! We'll head off tomorrow!"

The next day is hot and humid and in truth, just miserable. However, we are given a bit of a break as when we enter this cave that Shanis has lead us to, we find that the slight breeze outside (halted mostly by the dense cover that hides this surprisingly large hall from detection) in here becomes a whistling gale.

Okay, not _quite_ a gale, but its strong enough that it really does whistle - almost annoyingly so - and it keeps the air moving, making this place actually many degrees cooler than outside. The air of this cave is not at all stuffy like I imagined (and I did _not _look forward to that. It was already hot enough outside, damnit), but refreshing really.

I give my shoulders a brief stretch as we continue down this hall. It seems almost to never end, and if what Shanis said earlier is correct, she guesses it to be about ten miles long. Now, at our current rate, we should realistically almost be there - though, I still can't see the exit, and that's starting to worry me - cause I estimate that we've gone at _least_ eight or nine miles by now (we've got to have gone at that far, already).

Sheik's fears must be rubbing off on me, cause I'm starting to doubt her now, as well. I don't know why, she doesn't seem to be the type to double cross anyone, but then again She's a Gerudo. A Desert Thief.

I frown. . .

And at the same time, the Gerudo are brutally honest.

She's walking ahead of us now, leading the way - which my mind does point out is a big no no (usually, another part states almost gleefully) cause its hard to stab someone in the back when they're behind you - and she's kinda rocking her head back and forth and whistling some tune that I don't recognize.

She's done nothing to rouse my suspicion, but I can't help myself. Like I said, I think it's just what Sheik's been saying getting to my head.

At least, that's what I'm hoping.

A glint catches my eye and I find my gaze being drawn down to her sword, one of her two scimitars, which both hang at her side. One is obviously more. . ._important_ than the other, its blade made of dark ebony, its hilt of blood red leather and stained gold that does not shine, but rather seems to absorb the light. I watch as the flickers of light from the torch dance across that wickedly curved blade, decorated by large designs in the shape of the blade itself, giving it jagged edges that I can just image tearing flesh-

I resist the urge to give my head a shake, but shove the thought from my mind nonetheless. What I can't help, though, is the worried expression that crosses my face as I chew on my bottom lip and stare forward blankly.

Ever since the boat ride here (to whatever continent this is, Sheik told me but I can't remember. The days seem to by flying so swiftly, suddenly, and I feel like I'm being forced ahead, like someone's got me in fast forward), I've been having increasingly. . . Worse thoughts.

And when I say worse. . .

I try again to concentrate on Shanis' scimitar. It's a pretty thing (in a dark way, but knowing what's happening to me. . .), but unlike most other 'pretty things', I know it can actually serve a purpose. I can feel its power even from several feet away, immense and commanding. . .

I wonder. . .Is it like the Hellplague?

It has that kind of air of. . .Greatness to it.

For a reason I don't quite understand, I can feel the pull of the scimitar, and some where deep in the back of my mind a voice whispers to me that the Hellplague called for me in much the same manner. The call of the blade is not too strong, however, at least, not unbearably so, and I find myself resisting without any real difficulty.

However, that does not mean that I can just push that want aside.

It worries me, it really does. . .Whatever it is that's going on with me, no one seems to be able to tell me the whole truth and that frightens me. I can feel it now. . .It's disturbing, but now I can even _feel_ my own body changing, I can feel the shift of muscles and the strengthening of bone and tissue.

Not to say that its that simple or quick, no. I can feel these things changing now, but its a very slow process. . .But I know what's going on, can sense my very _mood_ and mentality changing, shifting, becoming darker.

Sheik doesn't seem to notice, however. . .Ever since my confession of the Hellplague, he seems a bit more relaxed, as if something I said managed to calm him down a little. He still has his moments, where I catch him giving me an odd look or something of the like, studying me for just a little too long, or something like that, but no where as bad as before.

Not that what he was doing was bad, don't get me wrong. He has every right to worry and wonder and be suspicious. . .But. . .

I sigh.

I just don't want him to hate me.

On the lighter side, however, Malon's been a bit more absent than usual, though my Brother seems to be adamant on making up for her. He's been talking to me often now, sometimes appearing as much as ten or twenty times a day, sometimes staying for only a few words, sometimes for a whole conversation.

I don't know quite what to make of him. He's still the same evil son of a bitch as when I fought him (his words about what it would do to Sheik if I lost still right through my mind, and I find myself grinding my teeth together, expression narrowed. I can see Sheik give me a slight look from the corner of his eye, but I meet his look solidly with an unfaltering gaze to try to curb any concern it may have), but now he seems to almost be concerned _for_ me, and that's what disturbs me. I'm quite used to deceit and hidden agendas and their ilk, but with him. . .

Well, as corny as this sounds, its almost like we share some kind of. . ._bond_.

And I _trust_ him. . .

Even I have to roll my eyes at that. It's ridiculous, really, but that doesn't mean I can shake the feeling. My brain's sending off warning bells every time I speak (or would _think_ be a more appropriate term?) to him, but I know he's being genuine. No lies, no hidden motives, no backstabbing. . .

I'm torn between paranoia and trusting the damn shade.

**_'Bout time, _**He mumbles, his voice emerging from the back of my mind without any warning, **_I would think you to have some more trust in your own family members, brother._**

_And why should I trust you?_ I ask, keeping my eyes on Shanis' back in front of me, _Face it, I have no reason to believe anything you say._

**_Really?_** His tone surprises me, he actually sounds surprised, **_And why not? Have I lead you wrong so far?_** His attempt at faking innocence makes me cringe - something that I make sure not to actually _show,_ or I'll get Sheik all up in a huff again - and I can't help it as I snap a retort back at him.

I arch an eyebrow,_ You're seriously saying that I can trust you, my shade of a brother who tried to kill me on two separate occasions - that I remember, _I add, remembering what that Marcus told me of the numerous times that he and I have lived,_ -and threatened one of my friends in the process, saying that you would 'rip him apart, piece by fucking piece' if I failed?_

**_Yep. That's me. _Completely_ trustworthy._**

I roll my eyes, _A complete bastard, that's what._

_**And you're completely useless, but do you hear me whining? I never-**_

_My ass, you don't whine, _I frown, _You're always complain about whatever it is that Farore chose me over you for. If it consoles you at all, I have _no_ memory of just what that is, so it couldn't have been all that great. _He says nothing, but I can feel him glaring in the back of my mind. I have no clue what nerve it is I'm hitting with him, but it seems to be a painful one, _And why don't you tell me what the hell's going on? I _know_ you know, and not telling me is helping no one._

Silence.

_Help me out, you asshole!_

I roll my eyes and turn my gaze away from Shanis - and away from Sheik too, off to my left - this is stupid. He's being a jerk. He _knows_ my past, and he refuses to tell me about it! My very future could rely _solely_ on the information that only he can give me! And-

_**. . .You want to know the truth?**_

_Huh?_

**_The truth. . ._** He pauses and I can feel him sigh, **_The truth is complex, Link-_** That's the _first _time I've heard him call me by name and it makes me frown - **_And far more dangerous than you could ever imagine. . ._**

I wait, my body tensed in anticipation, waiting for the _truth_.

_**The truth is, Link-**_

There's a sudden rumbling, and the ground shakes beneath me and my companions. It stills, lasting all of a second, the world going deathly quiet for one moment, and Shanis whips around to stare at us, surprise wide in her eyes. She opens her mouth to say something but its drowned out by a second, much more violent rumble. She reaches for the wall, grabbing a large rock, which is the only thing that keeps her from falling. Sheik, I can see out of the corner of my eye, falls into some kind of fighting stance and uses that to keep his balance.

I, however, can feel myself pitching over backwards as the very ground beneath me shakes wildly, and battle hardened instinct forces my hand up over my shoulder, to where the warm hilt of the Hellplague awaits. I grab it - feeling the immediate rush of warmth and _comfort _- and turn it upon itself, striking the tip of the blade into the ground and burying it deep, using that as my stabilizer.

Again the quakes stop, slowing down to a halt and leaving the world quiet again. There's a bit of an awkward silence amongst us, and I use the opportunity to pull my blade up from the ground and wipe the dirt off on my pant leg. In several areas I can see where small bits of the ceiling - only pebbles, really - have fallen, and while its not much its more than enough to make me worry.

"What was _that_?" Shanis asks in a whispered tone, though mostly to herself. Before any of us can reply - or even suggest _moving_ - I feel the ground beneath my feet give, ever so slightly. My eyes go wide, and I lunge forward as the dirt beneath us gives way (Sheik may have never finished my training (hell, he hardly started) but _damn_, does it come in handy). Shanis turns and does the same, as does Sheik, though I can see him actually _leap_ - putting us to shame with our 'jumps'.

Just as he lands a good distance away, he turns to face us.

I can only imagine what he's seeing.

Before I can ever even hope to get as far as he has, the ground gives even further and disappears beneath me completely, opening wide to a deep black pit with no visible bottom. Gravity immediately begins to take effect, and I curse wildly as I begin to fall with it, no longer going forward but just _straight_ down.

Shanis seems to be having the same problem as me, but she's closer to the wall so I can see her hands scrambling against the rock, looking for more hand holds. She's out of luck and I can't hear her over the noise but I can see her mouth wide open in an O of a scream. She falls after me, and I watch her form as she too descends.

I drop, watching that light way up high - Shanis must have dropped the torch up there, I realize, but that's for the best cause this is gonna _hurt_ and Sheik might be the only one to_ ever _need it again - narrow in the space of seconds, a small opening in the black of the depths.

**Son of a bi-**

_Crack!_

_Sheik lays there, pretending to be asleep because he knows that he can't do anything, just lays there and listens to his friend screaming into the night, pretending he can't _hear_ the shifting of muscle and bone. He's heard some very bad things in his life - the Sheikah are not the most amiable people in the world, and they often take in people for 'interrogations' - but nothing like this, ever._

_Link screams again and it changes so slightly, wavering. It's not one long scream, but several stitched together, filled with agony and anger. The Hero's voice falters, catching in his throat for a second before he continues again, and Sheik can hear him rolling over and writhing as the changes take effect, can hear Link's body scraping against the ground beneath him as he goes into convulsions._

_Sheik listens, laying there in the darkness and pretending he can't hear it because he knows. . .He _knows _that there is _nothing_ he can do, and that if he tried, Link, in his state of mind - half awake, half insane with demonic magic - would simply rip him apart, like he almost managed to do that first night when the change was a mere shadow of what it is becoming _now

_And in the morning they'll both wake up - Link shivering and cold to the touch, shaking like he's seen demons, and Sheik quiet and unquestioning, secretly (and shamefully) praising the gods that he's spared whatever visions it is that Link's seeing cause he's sure he could not take that kind of _torture_ - and there will be no words amongst them as Link keeps to himself, and Sheik remains too afraid to ask._

_He listens again as he hears Link nearly choke on his own blood - this much screaming he knows isn't good, he knows it rips and tears his friend' s throat and he's seen the splatters of blood that decorate Link's makeshift pillow, but neither of them ever say anything about it, too ashamed at their own individual weaknesses - and he hates himself as he finds himself wishing that this was _it_, this was were Link would be silent._

_Deep down he wishes that it would be as simple, as painfully quick (and he knows with a heavy heart that it wouldn't be quick at all) as asphyxiation, instead of what he fears will one day happen, despite all his hopes._

_He fears the day that when he turns around it won't be Link he's looking at but instead some monster and he'll be forced to kill (at least to _try)_ a demon that's really his best friend who he _couldn't_ save._

_Link silences, his screams slowly becoming nothing more than ragged harsh breathing that the Sheikah knows the Hero will be ashamed of tomorrow, ashamed that he actually screamed out loud, but Sheik won't blame him, never has. But they still won't say a word in the morning, pretending it never happened._

_But as for now, they both fake deep breathing, both pretending to be oblivious, letting the matter slide but Sheik knows, deep down in his heart, that it's only going to get worse. There is only one solution and its something that he never wants to have to do. He'd rather kill himself first, and he's wondering if maybe that_ is _a second option._

_Laying on his side, the Sheikah stares sadly at the pillow, clutching it with his shaking fingers beneath his hands and wondering if he could ever work up the courage to smother Link in his sleep._

"**Bitch,**" We snarl as we clutch my head, frowning, "Son** of a fucking _bitch._**"

Laying on the ground, I try to push us up, but with one elbow half extended an explosion of pain bursts out from beneath my hand and we groan loudly, falling back face first into the cold stone beneath us. Eyelids shut I continue cursing, fingers clutching our wound tightly, as if our fingers could stop the blood we feel oozing over my fingers.

**_My?_** We frown, **_Our?_**

Something's not right and again we push me up to our feet, slowly, to the knees first and then struggling upright with confusion and panic bubbling in the back of my head.

"**Son of a-. . .agh. . .**"

The pain's white hot and heavy and it weighs on our head like a thousand pounds, but somehow, with adrenaline pounding through our veins I make it to our feet, staggering and stumbling as my knees try to give out, but that worry and confusion is still there and it forces me to keep our footing.

**_That's. . .That's not right. . ._**I groan again, using my free hand to clutch our face as a steady pang of pain ticks to some unknown rhythm in the back of our mind, **. . ._Not _our. . .**

"**My?**" We blink, trying so hard to clear my head from the fog that surrounds us, "**. . .Me?. . .W-what happened?**"

Images assail us of me falling what seemed like a thousand feet to our bottomless grave. . .

Wait. . .

I'm. . ._Me._

The realization flashes through my head at an insane pace as suddenly that fog recedes into the mist and I really am **myself** again, myself for the first time in **months** and it feels so good to be 'alive' again. . .Even if I am only borrowing my brother's body, and even if its only temporarily.

Despite the pain that still throbs in the back of my skull I smirk, and stagger over to some upright rock to help me keep my balance. I'm still bleeding - which is no **fucking** surprise - and my vision's still swirly and I'm still a bit confused, but that's nothing that maybe a few minutes rest can't fix.

I can feel Link's conscious swirl lazily beneath mine, out cold and dead to the world. . .Somehow, when we fell. . .I must have accidentally forced myself forward, so that when he went out I was able to swoop in, right behind him. . .And I somehow have managed to 'take his place'. . .I'm in control now. . .

**First order of business,** I snarl to myself , leaning against that stone but still trying to keep my feet, **We get the hell out of here. And we pray to the Goddesses that those other two are alive. **

I catch myself by surprise with the statement, but I quickly realize my own reasoning behind my thoughts. . .Or, at least, I partially realize just why I don't want those two weaklings to die. If they die, Link's going to go insane or at least get depressed, and if he does that, that Malon **bitch** is going to win this fight of ours. . .And personally, I'm gonna do everything I damn well can to win this stupid fight.

**And,** a subtle little voice whispers in the back of my head, **We will not serve anyone. We will serve no one.**

I nod to myself and cringe at the spike of pain the movement causes, but despite that, I force myself to look up. Giving my vision a second to stop spinning, I study our fall - way up high I can see some light. . .Maybe that torch from earlier. It gives me just enough light to see the cavernous walls of the pit we have fallen into. It's lucky that my brother's eyes have been some of the first things to go, as otherwise I would not be able to make out anything, and probably be stuck in this hole forever.

However, I can see, and what I see is that we are very, very lucky.

The sides of this cavern slope heavily, forming almost a funnel shaped wall structure, with it being widest at the top. Which is lucky, cause with a headwound like this (definitely not fatal, but it will take a little while to heal and we don't have that much time. We don't have any water or bandages or anything) I'm not sure we'd be able to take on a flat surface. Sure, maybe after a few days, yeah, but right away?

I attempt to walk over to one of the walls, trying to keep my feet as I stumble and falter. With each step I take the ground beneath my feet appears almost to twist and turn as my world keeps trying to turn itself inside out on me. I stop once I reach the comforting cool rock and close my eyes, willing for the world to straighten itself out again.

**Those two better not have died on me,** I hiss to myself as I wait for my dizzy spell to pass, one hand clutching the rock tightly, **I mean, I don't mind my brother going insane - it is, after all, one of my goals - but if he comes across their dead bodies, and he doesn't remember any of this. . .He'll think he flipped out and murdered them. . .Or something. . .**

Which would mean that Malon would win, and I can't allow for that. Or, Link would kill himself, and while that would set me free again (after a whole rebirth faze in which I would have to work my way back to getting even this far), I want to remember everything, and starting all over isn't going to help that. I want to find out about Farore, cause I only half remember what she did to us, and I want her to **pay.**

But. . .Until I know the extent of what she's done. . .

With a sigh, I turn around, and grab on to one of the rocks. As I pull myself up, there's another blast of pain, but I try my best to just shrug it off. From the looks of it, we've fallen at least a hundred feet (would have been impossible to survive, if it were not for my brother's Demon metamorphosis) and we can't stop for long, not if we want to get out, anyway.

As I climb, I can't take my mind away from just what I **do** remember. . .Farore chose him over me, and I hate it. She chose him to be her damned Hero, to be the one to defeat me. . .She wanted him to be the one to lead our little adventure here - I **know** she's been planning this for a while, but like hell I'm just going to **let** this happen! - she wanted him to be the one to do whatever it is that we're here for. . .But what I still can't understand is why **him** and why **not** me?

I feel a snarl rising in the back of my throat.

I am so much stronger and faster than my brother. I have some much more experience, too - it's been a long time since I last died and was reborn, meanwhile, my brother has only been around for some six hundred years. **I** have been her slave for far too long, tossed and forgotten in the corner while little Light Boy gets all the attention. **I **have served her much longer and more successfully than he has. It was **me** who guarded the Triforce for how many damned eons?

And. . .If my 'memories' about what she has done to us is correct. . .I want revenge.

**But I still don't know everything that happened,** I curse to myself as I almost lose my footing, **And until I do, I can't really get my revenge. Hell, maybe even by then, I won't want to get back at her. . .**

My brother wants me to tell him the truth. What I remember. Shit, I hardly remember anything at all. . .But its enough to raise my suspicions, and the fact that there are two of us. . .Three, actually. . .

It just doesn't make sense.

Link and I share a close bond - the other doesn't. He's got a bond with us but unlike Link, I can't feel anything about him - and for that to form. . .What Marcus was saying about the Goddesses creating me first, then Link can't be true. If it was, then we wouldn't have a bond - there would be no connecting factor, other than the fact that the Three made us. For me to share that bond with Link (I find it particularly amusing that he doesn't even know about it yet), we would have had to have been _bound_ at one point, somehow.

And I have no memories of things like that-

_-Green curls flashing in the torchlight as she moves under my hands. Bright, stabbing pain, a whirl of colors. . .And blood. . .One of my hands clutches weakly on to her leathers as I pull myself again up to my feet, fighting the weakness therein. I stagger backwards, muscles clenched as blood runs down the small of my back. . ._

_Cruel, mocking laughter echoes behind me. . ._

Did she betray me at some point in one of my former lives? Or, was there something more to it? Why would a Goddess betray her servant? Link's visit to Marcus has just left me more confused. The Other is vaguely connected to me too, but whether he knows about our link and has severed it, or just blocked it, I don't know. I can kind of feel him, but it's distant, distorted. Vague. With Light Boy, however, there are times were I can just about read his very mind. . .I can feel what he feels, and maybe** that's **what drives me to my jealousy of him. . .

That, and Farore **did** choose him, over me.

My head throbs as I force my body (Link's technically, but I'm not in the mood to decide just how to address. . ._us_) up on to a small ledge that just suddenly out of the wall. The idea of rest is rather appealing, as the pain is becoming a bit more persistent, and this damn body is just about crying out for some relief. I scowl and curse lightly, sliding up and away from the edge.

"**Oh. . .shit. . .**" I mutter, my voice barely a whisper. My left hand is up, cradling the back of my head and the only thing between it and the wall behind me, I lean back and ponder if bashing my skull against something would stop the ache.

As I clentch my eyes and try to stop squirming, I hear a sudden scraping noise to my left, and within a second - caution screaming through my veins as the adrenaline pumps - I am on my feet and moving, toward the wall and around. There's a flash of movement and a figure (who I'm really trying hard to get behind, without throwing myself off of the cliff), and a curved sword cuts surprisingly deep into the rock wall just an inch to my right. I stare down at the wicked blade.

Dark and twisted and surprisingly ornamental, but the dark essence that leaks from the metal speaks that its meant for more than just decoration. It glimmers in the orange light, still for just long enough for me to see its form, the way the light slides over it like velvet, and then suddenly its coming towards me again, and I move back to avoid getting my throat pierced.

There's an explosion of white hot pain from my head and my legs go numb. I drop like a fly to my knees, both hands up to the back of my head and holding the bleeding flesh in a vain attempt to get the bleeding to stop. Or, to get the pain to cease. Either one would be nice right about now-

"**_Owfuck_**," I hiss, eyes clenched shut, rocking back and forth as I try to dispel the pain.

". . .Link?"

I start at the name, and I crack open an eye to try to see. All that I can make out, however, are hazy blurs and swirls, twisting and turning upon each other, melding and dividing. . .I close my eyes and swallow hard, trying not to be sick.

"Link, are you okay?" There's a note of panic to the voice, I realize, and its familiar. Feminine, but not really.

I pop my eyes open again just long enough to see a large red and bronze blur. Shanis. I open my mouth to say her name, but I catch myself at the last second, instead, lightening my voice, ". . .**S-**Shanis?" Can't sound like me and not Link, after all. . .I clear my throat to try to disguise the slip up.

"Yeah, its me - are you alright?" I pause for a second, lost in the thought of how her voice sounds like its underwater.

". . .I'm alright," I mutter, slowly lowering my hands down to my sides, "I. . I think I hit the back of my head. . ."

"Yeah. . .Let me see it," I feel her hands on my shoulders, gently easing me forward. I don't resist, not even as I feel her prodding fingers dig slightly into the back of my skull, "Oh. . .Geez, you hit yourself bad."

"Like how bad?" I ask, frowning into her shoulder, "Like, It's-Really-Ugly-But-Not-That-Bad, bad, or is it more like Oh-My-Goddess, I-Can-See-His-Brains-and-They're-Leaking-Out-onto-The-Floor?" I cringe as one of her fingernails (thank the **Goddesses** that she keeps them short) scrapes the sore skin.

"I don't think you're going to die, but you _might _bleed to death if we don't get this patched up," One of her hands leaves the back of my head for a brief moment, and I can hear something ripping, "We'll be lucky if you didn't fracture your skull - How did you get up here, anyway?"

"I climbed."

"Like_ that_?" She's holding something up to my head now, and wrapping it around my injuries. A bandage, probably, "I'm amazed you didn't fall."

"So am I."

"Actually, I'm amazed that you didn't die. That's one hell of a fall - I didn't think it was possible that _anyone_ could survive something like that," I hear a noise, like the shuffling of cloth on stone, "Yeah. That's a huge drop. . .Would have flattened just about anybody."

I crack open my eye to look at her, and am glad to see that I can actually see _- **Okay**,_ maybe not **_perfectly_, **but at least the world's holding still - her sitting before me. There's a hint of disbelief in her eyes, but its mostly overridden by curiosity. I groan, and try to straighten.

"I was just lucky. . .I think. . .I must have landed not too bad. . ."

"You don't look like you're in too bad shape - other than your headwound, of course. . .But you know what else I've noticed?" Her eyes take on a funny, curious gleam, "Your voice. It's a little deeper than normal."

My eyes widen slightly, against their own accord, and I silently pray to the Goddesses whom I hate so (mostly Farore, but still) that I don't slip up, or else I'm screwed. If she suspects something, its almost impossible to say what she'll do. Hell, if she thinks that Link's possessed (which I guess it kinda is), then she might even go so far as to kill us.

"Uh, it must just be your imagination," I state, nervously, "And, well, I _did_ hit my head kind of hard."

Like that's **any **sort of explanation.

Shanis pauses, unbelieving, and a long moment passes, slow and heavy and full of tension, before suddenly she nods to herself and gives me a light smile. I sigh, gently.

"That makes sense," She comments, flipping her hair back over her shoulder - when it had begun to fall before her eyes, I don't remember - "I think its about time we start heading upwards - but," She gives me a bit of a sympathetic look, and I find myself bristling, "Can you climb still?"

"I should be able to climb some more-"

"Are you sure? You've got a hell of a head wound, and if we're climbing and you fall, I _can't_ catch you."

"I'll be fine, Shanis," I sigh, "I came up this far already, it won't take long for us to reach the top. We're what? Halfway?"

Her brow furrows, ". . .Something like that."

I open my mouth to respond but before I can, the ground beneath our feet rumbles, much like it did before the tunnel collapsed earlier. Both Shanis and I brace ourselves - me, grabbing on to a nearby boulder and Shanis grips some handholds in the rock walls - as the earth shakes, and rocks tumble from far above, sailing down towards us and crashing on to the ledge that we stand on - one **narrowly** misses my head - some missing entirely and disappearing into the pit below.

A moment later, the rumbling ceases, leaving us shaken and wary.

Shanis glances upward, "Again?"

"What?"

"Why would that happen _again_?"

"Cause the Goddesses hate us?"

She looks back down to me, a tinge of irritation in her eyes, one eyebrow arched, "What?"

"Cause the-"

"I heard what you said, I mean _why_ would you say that?"

"Well, why _not_?"

She rolls her eyes, looking upward again, ignoring my statement, ". . .That's highly unusual. I mean, I could understand the first quake, and even the second one, but another one, this soon?"

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"In this area, there _is_ the occasional earthquake - but usually only one every five years or so, and never really very strong. Now, for us to have three - one of which was large enough to damage the tunnel - in one day. . .That's really strange. I mean, that tunnel was made with the understanding that it would have to be strong, because of the earthquakes. Nobody wanted their army to be in a slipshod cave when the rocks would come tumbling down."

"Maybe it just wore out? Got old and deteriorated?"

"I think someone meant for this to happen. I'm sure that someone caused that quake. Maybe even because we're here. . ."

"Oh yeah?" I lean back against the rock wall behind me, crossing my arms, an indignant expression on my face, "And, pray tell, who _could_ cause a quake like that? No one I know."

There's a deafening roar that echoes about the cavern, bouncing from wall to wall to wall, and the very sound of it causes the ground to again shake and rumble, though not as strong as earlier. In the silence that follows, I look over towards Shanis, a bit of shock in my eyes.

"Okay," I reply, hands clutching the boulder tightly, "I take that back."

"What on earth-?" Shanis is cut off by another strong roar, this one louder than the last. As the rocks start to fall, I perk my ears and am just able to catch the sound of metal on metal. It takes a long moment to think (the noise is **really** starting to give me a headache) as the falling rocks are distracting. Now, lets see. . .Who would be up** there-**

I turn to Shanis, just as she turns towards me.

_"Sheik!"_ we both exclaim, our eyes wide.

Within seconds, Shanis and I are scrambling up the rockside, racing hell for leather as this time its not a roar that echoes through the cavern, but a hauntingly familiar laugh.

----------

I dodge, rolling to my right as a large pincer like claw comes crashing down where I stood less than a second before. I brace myself as I hit the ground and force myself to keep moving, and sure enough, three more attacks rain down upon me before I can reach that safe distance away from this monster.

_Not a monster. A Demon._

I hop up quickly to my feet, my daggers in my hands, turning about to face my opponent. Before me stands a grotesque creature, the height of at least three men, and the length of at least another five. It has not hands but large, sharp claw like pincers, though they are obviously not for picking up or pinching things, like the claw of a crab. No, this one pronged appendage is obviously good for only one thing - impaling its victims.

The thing laughs at me, its mandibles spreading wide to let out the braying, almost echo-y sound, and the whole room around me shakes not for the first time. It's tiny, grinning head (behind those mandibles are rows upon rows of sharp teeth, each about six inches long and terribly pointy) stares down at me with elongated red eyes lacking irises, however, they also bear no whites.

_Run little Elf, _I swear its grin widens, despite its obvious lack of lips, and its mandibles click closed then open, the _tic tic_ noise as irritating as it is creepy, _Run as fast as you can. You'll never escape me. . ._

"What the hell are you!" I shout, face securely hidden behind my cowl, "What do you want?"

_Want?_ It hisses, sounding almost surprised, and yet smug. Amused, _I don't want, Elf, I _need

I dodge as without any real warning, its pincer again flies down towards me. I manage to flip backwards out of the way, and then as soon as my feet touch the ground I dash to my left as again it attacks with its other pincer, the tip of the claw sinking in deep into the ground.

"What the hell do you want, Demon!"

_Need him. You know him_, It moves slowly forward, its maggot like body dragged forward by its ten small legs. I stand my ground but tense, preparing to move at a second's notice, _The boy. . .The Elf._ It's eyes narrow dangerously.

"Link?" I whisper, my arms drooping for just one second as a brief feeling of dismay falls upon me. The thing makes a horrible sound, akin to a snicker.

_Yes yes!_ Its upper body straightens, the disturbingly muscled chest flexing in the torch light (the torch? Don't know where the hell that is now. It fell earlier, and this thing hasn't given me the chance to pick it up) its 'voice' racing. Excited, _Need him. Give him to me . . .And you will be spared._

One of those claws inches forward, but not in a threatening manner. Actually, it seems to be trying to coax me into giving Link over (even though I don't know where it is. Or if he's. . .) I hiss and slash one of my daggers forward, not coming anywhere close to connecting, but the motion makes me feel better. I leap back, away from those deadly claws.

The Demon seems disappointed, but still amused.

"I won't give him to you!" I shout, one hand reaching down slowly for a throwing dagger, "He's _not_ yours!"

_Yes, yes it is! Ours. . .He is ours! You cannot keep him forever!_ The thing roars again, rearing its upper back and wailing out this horrible, grinding sound, _You _cannot_ keep him! He is _ours!

"No he's not! He's an Elf! He's not a Demon!"

_Wrong! Wrong wrong wrong!_ The thing laughs again, this time, the sound is a like a frothy gurgle caught in the monster's throat, _it is! it _is

"No it isn't!"

_Wrong! The change will start soon_, the thing whispers, its voice ringing about eerily in my head, it _will change soon, and there's nothing you can do about it. it is ours. it is ours! it is perfect!_

"What. . ." I find myself surprised by the sudden turn in the conversation. The thing almost seems to be talking to itself now, in great excitement. The way it refers to Link sends chills down my spine, "What are you saying?"

_No others have ever survived such a raw Demon influence. No one but him,_ The Demon's eyes flash in the light, as it stalks another step closer, _Baal has tried before. Failed. Failed him. Failed us._

"But I thought. . ._"_

_That's why Baal was so upset. . .When it found out what Diablo did. Angry. Was sure it was going to fail. Was sure Elf was going to die. Wouldn't be able to handle the influence. Body would corrupt then _rot

"Link's going to. . .?"

_Elf's not like that. He's strong! He's perfect, he's ours. A new brother. Changes will start soon, little Elf, and you can't stop them. His soul will be ripped from his very body. . .He will be a Demon, just like us, very soon. . ._

"Link won't give in that easily," I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts trying to cloud their way into my head, "I won't let him give in. He'll fight it, even if I have to-"

_Even if you have to force him? He wants this, Elf, he just doesn't realize it. _

"He does not!" I shout, muscles tensed and my hands clenched tightly around the handles of my daggers, "He does _not want this!_"

The thing throws back its head and begins to laugh, the sound both harsh and whispery and anger surges throughout me. Not even aware of what I am doing, my hand races down to my belt and behind the bottom of my cowl, where my fingers close about the cool, smooth shafts of my throwing daggers.

Just as this thing's laughter begins dying, I throw a fist full of daggers at it, feeling the rage pounding through my veins. The small metal objects fly so fast that they almost shriek through the air, and I know my aim is still as good as it has ever been as the knives sail straight for its face.

It opens its eyes again to get a face full of knives.

_Arrrragghhhh! _It howls, clawing at its face with its pincers, but they are large and not very mobile, and it is only able to rub the sides of them across its face, pulling loose a few of the daggers, and dragging more across its flesh. New wounds from as it tries to remove the knives, and it screams out even louder.

As amusing as this looks (the stupid thing is only hurting itself more like this) I can't remove the frown from my face, as again I reach for more knives. With four ready in hand, one between each finger, I give the Demon a chance to stand upright again before I throw (as it will give me a better shot at its head).

The small - though much larger than that of a humans - head raises, and I feel a cold smirk rise to my lips, when I see that not only one side of its face has been shredded, but one of its eyes has also popped right open, leaving a crimson blob where it used to be. That smile still on my face, I wind up and again throw more daggers. They whistle through the air, heading straight for their target, but just before they reach its face, it raises a claw and deflects them, as though they were nothing.

The small daggers bounce off uselessly, falling to the ground in a clatter.

_You think you can defeat me like that?_ It asks, small little legs dragging it forward towards me, _Gave you a chance. Could have turned him over. Could have _lived._ I can show you the power of a Demon._

"I have fought Demons before," I call out, surprised at how confident I sound_, "_And I have _always_ won. I will not lose to you!"

_Wrong, so very wrong. . ._ It raises itself before me, pincers ready, _You may have won before, but have you ever fought with a Lesser Evil?_

"Lesser Evil?" I mumble to myself, dodging as one of those claws comes down. Lesser Evil. . .Now why is that familiar?

_"There's the Prime Evils,"_ _Link mumbles, using one stick to poke at our campfire - sullenly. He always acts this way when I bring up the subject of Demons - "They're the strongest of the bunch. Diablo, Mephisto, and Baal. And then there's the Lesser Evils. I've only met two - Duriel and Anduriel - but geez, they may not be as tough as the Prime Evils, but they can be real bastards."_

My eyes widen.

I've fought Demons before - I've even fought against Baal with Link, but. . .

This thing, half bug, half man looks decidedly tougher than Baal.

_I doubt he really is though,_ I think to myself as I dodge behind a boulder. The Demon follows me surprisingly quickly for its small legs and large size, _That, or Baal's not fighting us fully yet. Either way, I don't know what I'm going to do. I've taken out its eye, and that hardly seems to have done anything. And now, it won't let me throw more daggers at it._

One of the giant claws sideswipes at me, and I am just able to leap forward, the almost blade like pincer just missing my body by scant inches. I hit the ground rolling, only feet ahead of the creature. We approach the wall, and I am able to get back up on my feet, and turn around and face this thing.

_If Link fought and beat this thing before, I give him all the credit in the world._

It lunges forward, a hissing scream rising from its throat, its claws posed and ready. A sudden thought strikes me and instead of turning and bolting I race forward to meet it. With only a second to spare, I dodge its claw and leap up on to its back, daggers ready.

As soon as my feet touch its flesh, however, they feel as though they've been turned to ice. I gasp in surprise, looking down at them as I can feel the icy magic working its way up and through my muscles, all the way up to my arms and then I'm suddenly moving again because the Demon's trying to shake me off. Before I slip and fall I try desperately to work the strength into my legs to jump, but I fail miserably.

I watch with a feel of dread in my heart as the ground approaches so quickly, but before I can even hit it, there's a blinding flash of pain and my world blanks out. . .And I manage to regain my vision just in time to see the wall I'm about to collide with.

More pain and then. . .Nothing.

--------------

I leap back and bring up the Hellplauge, and the blade lights on fire of its own accord. At the sight, the Demon backs up a step and screeches, but only a second later its charging forward again, that icy cold aura of its is trying to latch on to me, to slow me down. However, the Hellplague is in my hands and while it seems to recognize and dislike me and Link's switch of conscience, it helps to dispel the chill.

The Demon lashes out with its claws and I jump up and over one, landing just in time to duck the other. I can hear Shanis working away behind the monster, her swords furiously striking at the soft, insectile flesh which is for the most part, unprotected. All she really has to deal with is the occasional counterattack from the Demon (he eventually gets pissed off enough to give her a chase, but he seems more interested in me) and the aura. I, on the other hand, have the claws, the aura, and the constant counterattacks to deal with.

Plus, for a really big maggot/slug Demon thing, this guy's really fast.

It charges forward towards me, and against all instinct I force myself to move and roll right **under** its body, sword drawn halfway through my second rotation and then I'm on my feet again, blade raised and cutting a deep gouge into the underside of the Demon. It screams loudly, its little insectile feet _ticking_ away at the floor beneath us in agony. I dart out between two of the bug like legs, hitting the ground and rolling to the side as the Demon slams a pincer into the ground, right beside me.

Within less than a second I am back up on my feet, and ready to continue.

The Demon, however, seems unwilling.

Face grinning maliciously at me, I find myself surprised when it actually speaks, _So. Diablo was right. You _are_ strong. . .Stronger than ever before._

"What?" I frown. It throws its head back and laughs.

_He said you were strong. Strong Elf. Will survive the change._

My eyes widen, and then widen further when I see that Shanis has stopped fighting, and is listening in with a worried expression on her face. She catches sight of my eyes, and then bowing her head briefly, she walks off to where Sheik is, and kneels down beside him. He's not seriously hurt but he could still probably use the good look over. That, and I want her to hear as little of the conversation as possible.

I turn my attention back to the Demon.

"He - I won't change, Demon!"

The creature before me seems to notice my mess up, but cocks his head and gives another short back of laughter, _Don't even remember me, Brother? Sad. So sad. Remember? Duriel._

"Duriel. . ." I hiss. Off in the back of my mind Link's memories are shouting out warnings at me associating this thing with extreme danger.

So. . .Link has fought this one before. Hmm. . .

_Come with me, Elf,_ Duriel takes a small step forward, his many legs rippling with the movement. He offers a claw forward, as if for me to take it and join him, _Come. Baal will be so happy. _

_"_Psh. Like I'm going to follow you. Go back where you came from!"

_Not leaving without you. Need you. Baal needs you. So much power. . .Brother. . .Can you resist?_

I narrow my eyes, "Fuck off."

The Demon laughs again, _I should have expected as much. He warned me. Told me. I can take you dead or alive, you know. It wouldn't take much for Baal to raise your corpse._

"Just try it, and we'll see how easy it is."

Duriel gives a bit of a shrug, and before I can even get my weapon back up in place he's charging forward again and I force myself off to my left, hitting the ground hard, but at least I'm out of the way. Laying on the floor beneath me, for one brief second I am able to get a glance at Shanis - She's on her feet again, swords in hands - and then I'm pushing myself upright and darting away as Duriel roars and attacks again.

I dodge the move by simply jumping over it, and when my feet touch the ground I've already got a spell welling up in my hands. Din's Fire - or, at least what Link **considers** Din's Fire - is blossoming above my palm, its orangey flame lighting up the shadows on my face.

Duriel sees the spell forming but doesn't seem to care, despite his obvious hate of fire. I smile. All the more perfect for me. He's moving forward again, raising a claw but he's too slow. I duck under it and spin, thrusting my palm into an open wound that I carved just minutes ago.

I, eyes closed, chant a sharp word and the spell explodes outwards, right into the midsection of my enemy. It shrieks loudly - _Hate fire!_ It screams_, Hate fire!_ - but it doesn't delay in trying to attack me again, slashing wildly as it trys to put out the fire that's starting to consume it.

With a slick dodge, I flip backwards over a claw, and away from Duriel.

It's eyes seem to brighten, and it roars even louder, flicking its maggot-like tail - and thus tossing Shanis aside - before spreading its front claws wide and tossing its head back. I stand still, surprised by the silence, but I am snapped out of my trance by the sound of something cracking. I instinctively look down by my feet and am not really all that shocked to see the rock cracking and slowly beginning to split. My eyes widen, and then I find myself leaping madly to the left, jumping over the sudden chasm that stretches out beneath me.

I'm lucky. I almost don't make it, but as I begin to cross over from flying to falling, my fingers manage to latch on to the edge of the cliff, and I hang by one hand, the Hellplague in the other. Behind me Duriel laughs, and though the sound gets anger flowing through me, I force myself upwards, taking it carefully. Nothing would suck now more than loosing my grip because I'm distracted.

I pull myself up on to the ledge with a sigh, and pause for a brief moment, staring at the pit I've just overcome.

**Hmm. . .I didn't think Light Boy's body could jump that far.**

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of a shout, and when I look up again, Duriel's fighting with Shanis head to head now, and while Sheik might be good, and Link experience (and partially one himself), Shanis obviously has no experience fighting Demons. She shoots me a desperate look from the corner of her eye, as she blocks an incoming claw, her decorated scimitar taking a surprising amount of abuse from the attack.

I frown.

I made it over the first time, but can I make it back?

I look over to the rock wall. On one side of us (to my right), the wall of the tunnel and part of the floor are gone, which reveals the giant pit in which we fell into. The new chasm that Duriel has created spreads from the first, straight across to the wall, and is at least fifteen feet across. This, of course, effectively cuts me off from Shanis and Sheik - but, I have a plan.

I look at the wall (the still intact wall) and then at the chasm. Wall, chasm. Wall. Chasm.

**It's still fifteen feet across, and I can't jump that far - but maybe. . .**I switch the Hellplague from my left hand to my right - my natural fighting hand, thank you very much. It just happens to be lucky for me that I can use my left, otherwise people would see right through my pretending to be Link - and prepare myself, **If I'm lucky, Link will be farther gone than I thought, or at least there'll be a ledge or something. . .**

With a final sigh and a cracking of my neck, I run towards the wall, and as I approach it, I instead change course to follow it, right straight towards the chasm.

And then, well, I fly.

-----------

"Unnn. . ." I startle awake, surprised into consciousness by the noise that was pulled from my very own throat. The first thing that I'm aware of is a mass of swirling colors, although that seems to be already lessening, and the throb of every joint in my body. The ache causes me to moan again, and wearily, feeling a pang of panic and worry - though I don't know where its coming from - I begin to force myself up on to my elbow.

I can hear something but my head's still working on clearing itself. I can't make out what the noise is, but its setting off alarms in the back of my mind, and that plus all my years of training, is forcing my body to get up and start thinking again, before I get myself killed.

_What was I doing? What happened?_ I can feel myself frowning through the rapidly lessening haze, _I was. . .Um. . .Something broke and I. . ._

I was - _am_ - fighting a Demon. . .

My eyes are really starting to clear now, and I find myself staring at a wall. . .Or something. I think its a wall. . .Yeah, a wall and a floor. Looks kinda of cave-ish, and there's an orange light somewhere. . .Flickering. . .

I frown.

_Hurry up! Hurry up! You might not have much time!_

There's. . .There's something on the wall. I can see some kind of black spot on it, that wasn't there before. Looks almost like a figure of. . .Of something _alive_, anyway. My muscles, of their own accord, tense at the thought, and one of my hands goes down for a dagger - one, luckily, happens to be laying right beside me.

Whatever it is, its coming closer by the second, racing at speeds that boggle the mind. It's got to be something alive, not only because its moving, but because I can also see its claws digging deep into the wall and its running like that - jumping from section to section, and then catching itself before it falls, using its claws to dig into the wall to help it jump again.

I force myself to my knees and ready the dagger, readying. . .

I can hear fighting off to my left, but my eyes remain trained on this Demon before me.

_Ready. . ._

I slash out as the figure at last approaches me, but just as its inches away the last of the shadows before my eyes fall, and its not a Demon with claws that I'm attacking, its a surprised looking Link, who's forcing himself to twist at the last second, out of the way of my weapon. I too, try to change the course of my attack and he manages to twist right over my hand, flipping over it while I force my arm down and away.

The change of course ruins his landing and he smashes hard into the rocky ground, rolling for several feet before coming to a stop, right at the wall.

I whip about to face him, and run over to his side.

He lays there for a minute longer, staring up at the ceiling and panting.

I can see the flickering of the torchlight dancing in the gleams of his sweat.

"L-Link?"

"Sheik? You're alright?" He rolls his head over to the side to look at me, and I can quickly see the dark spot his head left on the ground beneath him. Blood - "Geez, I was worried about you. Come on," He offers me a hand, "Help me up."

"Link. . .You're bleeding." I sit back on my haunches, hands on my legs, and just stare down at him. He rolls his eyes and frowns at me.

"Yes. Me and Shanis have been over that already. Just help me up - I'll be fine."

I ignore him.

I force him to roll over, shoving him, and he complies, grudgingly. Through the mess of his hair, I can make out clotted blood, and when I try to push the hair gently aside, Link groans. And I can see why.

The gash in the back of his head is about five inches long, and fairly deep as well. It's bleeding lightly now, probably reopened by his impromptu landing, and there's older, drier blood there that has begun to clot in his hair, and make the whole thing one big mess. The hair is all tangled, and it pulls on the wound whenever I try to get a better look at it.

Link rolls away from me, and pushes himself to his feet. On his way up, he turns to look at me.

I freeze.

_Those eyes!_

They are, of course, Link's eyes - but there's something different about them. There is none of that depressive confusion that has been clouding them recently, instead there is a kind of cunning smugness that I have never before even thought to associate with Link - and yet, here it is, staring me right in the face. Even the way he holds himself isn't quite normal.

_This . . .Can't be Link - but who else _could_ it be?_

Uneasy with the idea, I temporarily shove it off as him hitting his head a little too hard.

"You were out for a little while, you know," He says as he straightens himself out, "But you're feeling okay, right?"

"Yeah," I frown, ". . .What happened?"

"Duriel did," he shrugs, and then points behind me. I whip about to see Shanis locked in battle with that creature, just down the tunnel aways. . .That's the noise that I heard earlier. . .They're so far away that its almost impossible to see _or_ hear them through the gloom, "She's been forcing him down that way, away from you - hell, he could have stepped on you accidentally and that would have been the end - but I think she could use our help." He looks towards the chasm, and I tear my eyes away from the Demon long enough to follow his gaze, " He forced me over there earlier. He's trying to separate us, but I don't know why."

There's a false tone to the statement, and I again find myself frowning.

As Link starts running to help Shanis, I follow closely.

"I seem to remember it saying that it works for Baal. Maybe-?"

"Maybe." His response is brief and curt.

My frown deepens, but before I can actually say anything, we're suddenly at the creature, and it finally turns away from Shanis - who, I notice, is looking a little worse for wear - and faces us, roaring one of its terrible screams that causes the ground beneath us to shake. Luckily nothing gives way and suddenly both Link and I are upon it, me leaping up to try to get around to its back, and Link's standing in front of it, slashing and hacking away with the Hellplague.

I land on the maggot end of the Demon - _Duriel_ - and as soon as my feet hit its flesh, they again go numb, like before, only now I'm expecting this and I don't let it get to me. It definitely slows me down (now that I'm this close, I can easily see that its affecting both Shanis and Link - though, the later seems to be coping with it strangely well) but it doesn't take much effort to drop to my knees and stab both daggers downward.

Duriel screams, arching backward and almost throwing me off, but by then my daggers are firmly entrenched, and as soon as he stops shaking, I stand back up again, though still crouched. I start running, causing huge slash marks to appear down Duriel's back. His flesh back here is weak enough that it takes little to no effort to cut right through him, and within seconds I am forced to jump cause I've run out of runway.

As my feet hit the ground, Duriel screams again and I smile. When I get up and turn around, I notice that some of the wounds that Shanis and Link have made _have_ healed up, but it appears that as long as we keep attacking him continuously, he can't keep up with his healing.

Shanis strikes him at the same time Link does, and the Demon screeches in agony, flailing wildly.

_This was surprisingly easy. It seems that with the three of us, Duriel doesn't stand a chance - one on one, he's fine, but he's got a problem with defending against the groups._

I start as I watch Link's sword suddenly burst into flame, as he begins a series of vicious slashes - when did he learn to make it light like that? Or, did the sword itself do that?. . .Either way, Duriel is forced back by the fire, and Link definitely seems to have the upper hand on him.

But that changes far too quickly. After about seven or eight hits (each one stays on fire, so that not only is the Demon cut, he's also burning and that's obviously hurting him far worse than anything else we've done so far), Duriel suddenly stops running away. The change catches Link by surprise, but its already too late. I can see his eyes widen as he continues to swing, unable to stop, watching as Duriel's giant pincer comes racing down towards him.

Before I can even think about it, my body is in motion, moving forward with one hand outstretched as I race towards my friend, but even with my great speed I am far to late. By some strange luck, Duriel has decided _not_ to kill Link, and instead his claw hits the Half Breed squarely with the flat side. Link gives a strangled cry as he's smashed into the air, and I skid to a halt and watch, worried, as he flies straight into a wall.

He slams into it and then drops unceremoniously to the ground, twitching. My eyes widen and I race over towards him, dodging the amused swipe that Duriel sends my way, and kneel by his side.

"Link! Link, are you okay?" I place my hands on his shoulders, turning him on to his back. He stares at me, blankly, his eyes only thin slits in his face, which is cut and bloody. He's awake but clearly not aware, staring out somewhere far away, above my head.

**". . .ngh. . ."** He moans, harshly, and the sudden deep sound of his voice causes me to startle. Before I can recover from my surprise I can see his eyes rolling back into his head, and my grip on him tightens.

"Link!" I whisper, my own voice harsh. He doesn't respond. I shake him, "_Link_!"

He just sways limply in my grasp, his eyes open but blank, and the wound on the back of his head bleeding freely into my hands.

The sound of diseased, vile laughter echoes out from behind me, and I whip my head around Link still held protectively in my grasp. Duriel, on his many legs, walks slowly towards us, _Strong, yes. . .But mortal still._

Eyes narrowed, I let Link back down to the ground and stand up, hands clenched at my sides, "Bastard. . ." My hands, still shaking, reach for my daggers, "Why won't you leave us alone?"

_Need him. You are not a part of this. You could leave, right now, and never see me again, _The thing grins wickedly, _But you won't leave. Mortals, stubborn. Wish and want and _pry_. This has nothing to do with you,_ It takes a step forward, maggot body glistening in the torchlight, _Hand him over._

"No. I won't. I would _never._"

_Even at the end? When you have failed and he himself is fighting you?_

"He'd _never-_"

_He will. He will when he realizes the truth. Give him. He will want this, in the end._

Grinding my teeth, feeling the rage flow through my system, I suddenly dart forward, catching Duriel by surprise. Racing toward him with all my skill, I watch with narrowed eyes as his muscles tense and prepare for me.

_Fail. You will fail, and die here, _I watch as his sickly brown upper body shifts as the obscenely large muscles shift underneath tight skin, _Leave, and live. But, you do not._

Suddenly I'm in front of him and without even realizing it, I jump and avoid both his dangerous claws, landing with one foot on either one of his shoulders, his face down between my legs, about shin height. I can feel my eyes blazing as I struggle to balance and prepare my daggers, and he tries to swat and bite at me, but his arms can't reach and he has no neck, so instead he tries to make me loose my footing.

He tenses and _screams_ and in surprise, I shoot a quick look behind him, where Shanis has both her scimitars buried deep into his weak flesh. I smile and give her a quick nod, before slashing my daggers across his small, relatively unprotected face. He screeches and tries to claw at me, but I'm not stopping, raining blows upon his skull with my weapons. Small these blades may be, but they still hurt, especially when I'm going for the eyes and temples.

Finally, Duriel manages to throw me off, almost tipping himself over in the process, and I fall to the ground, hitting the rock ass first. I don't even pause, rolling back a few feet before hopping back up to my feet, falling instinctively into another battle stance. Shanis, I notice from the corner of my eye, runs up quickly beside me.

Now, with the torchlight hitting him just right, I can see all the wounds we've caused - his face is drenched in blood from numerous cuts, his chest still smokes from ragged slashes, and to his back end I can see all manners of lacerations, each one of them bleeding a phenomenal amount of blood on to the ground beneath us. There are also several other burn marks, obviously from the Hellplauge, or from Link's magic.

Duriel stands before us, slightly slumped, and breathing hard.

_Strong, you mortals may be, but you're not eternal. Not like us,_ It's face splits almost in two from its grin, _Elf killed me once before, and again I stand here, newly reborn-_

"-And newly dead," I hiss, just loud enough to interrupt, "You can't win this Duriel - immortal, or not."

_Win? We always win - he cannot escape us. Not forever._

I open my mouth to say something, but the scrape of leather on stone to my left draws my attention, and all three of us turn our heads to look, ". . .can't win?. . .I remember killing you once," Link stands there, barely able to keep his feet, stumbling, face downturned to the ground as he tries to remain upright. The Hellplague is in one of his hands, in the other his fist is clenched, and the faintest outlines of fire have begun to engulf it, ". . .I can do it again."

While there is a slow, steady conviction in his voice, I find myself secretly doubting he can do much to help us in his state - its obvious even from this distance that his eyes are unfocused and his knees weak.

_Lay down brother, you should be saving your strength - the next few months will take much out of you._

_"_I'm not coming with you, Duriel. I'm _not_ joining you."

_You'll change your mind. You'll see._ It laughs maniacally as Link walks toward it, dragging his sword with each step he takes, _The truth hasn't begun yet, and when it does, you'll come begging, crawling on your hands and knees for us to forgive you. . ._

". . .Shouldn't you be afraid, Demon? I'm about to kill you-"

_Kill me all you want, but you'll never defeat us. I may be banished to the abyss for another six hundred years, but in the mean time you'll have to deal with Anduriel. She's back. Angry._

"Well, she can tell you how that will all work out when she meets you in your Goddess damned abyss," Link raises his sword and takes it into both hands, the flame from his fist (still transparent, though brighter than before) racing up the hilt to consume the blade. His eyes flash with some fury with which I am unfamiliar, and then he's running, half stumbling towards the Demon. Duriel screams and then slashes at him, but the Half-breed's too fast, rolling under one - I can see the way he winces as his shoulder hits the ground and undoubtedly sends up agony to his wounded head - and then leaping, up on to the second one, using the flat as a perch.

As soon as his feet land on the claw, he's already jumping again, sword ready and now glowing with fire so bright, that it almost pains me to look at it. Duriel's head follows him upward, tracking all his movements, but its too late already, and suddenly Link comes flying down, his sword cutting deep into the Demon's skull and downward, into its chest cavity and the fragile organs I can only assume lie within.

Duriel lets out a fierce scream, but it quickly falters and dies as his head splits apart, and his body collapses on to itself. Link falls to the ground beside the dying Demon, able to catch his feet, but just barely. As he begins to stumble and fall, I race over and catch him by one arm, to steady him. Behind us, Duriel's body rots and decays within a matter of seconds, his flesh becoming liquid, pooling in the cracks of the stones. Fat and muscle leaks out from the cuts we have caused, and decorate the whole scene a disgusting red and orange color.

The smell that arises is so bad that I almost gag, even with the cowl over my face.

Link seems unaffected.

His knees give a little and he almost goes limp, but I throw my left arm about his waist, and pull his arm over my shoulder, kind of hoisting him up on to me, just enough that I can hold him up. With most of his weight supported by me, he is able to find his feet a little bit, and gestures over towards the wall.

"Sheik? Can you put me down over there," Despite the weakness in his legs, his voice remains fairly steady, though it sounds utterly confused, ". . .I need to ask you a few things. . ."

I nod, and immediately proceed to haul him over to one of the cave walls. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Shanis kicking Duriel's corpse, one hand over her nose, the other clenching tightly that fancy scimitar of hers. The body doesn't move, and I am not surprised. It's flesh is almost completely liquid, and I can see bones sticking out of the pool that it has formed.

As I set Link down, she rushes towards us and I am not surprised. Link's secret. . .Duriel just revealed it and while he wasn't horribly specific, she'd have to be an idiot to not catch on to some of the things that he was saying. Hell, she's probably guessed most of it by now, and telling by the expression on her face, I'm sure she's not happy with the conclusions.

Link lays against the wall, eyes quickly focusing as he looks up to me. I stare back, slightly confused as he pleads me with his eyes and asks, ". . .Sheik, what just happened?"

I blink, ". . .Duriel came and attacked us. He wanted you to go with him - what's wrong?" I ask, as he begins shaking his head.

"No, I guessed that much. . .What happened _before_ that? I. . .I remember falling, and. . ." He frowns, staring off into the space somewhere behind me, looking right through me. I glance over towards Shanis, who's looking as confused as I am.

"You fell," She adds in, "And really hit your head. You found me on the way back up, and we came up here, back up to the path. The Sheikah was unconscious, and there was that Demon here. We fought it, it talked about you_ joining _it-" Something different crosses her face, but I can't place it before its suddenly gone. Link seems to have also noticed, and his face goes even paler, "-and then you killed it."

"I don't remember any of that - other than killing him just now."

I frown, a bit of dread welling up in my chest - but my mind desperately fights against it, offering other possibilities, ". . .Maybe you just hit your head to hard?"

Link's frown deepens, ". . .Maybe." He seems unconvinced.

The uneasiness lessens in his eyes, but doesn't leave entirely, and I can't shake it from myself, either. Images of Link looking at me dance before my eyes, his face covered in that confident, smug smirk that doesn't suit him at all, that I have never before seen on him.

_It was Link I was looking at, but it wasn't him who was staring back._

----------

_There. 85.9 kb of story. Happy? sobs_

_Um, notes? Lets see. . .I don't know if I one hundred percent like this chapter, but I think it should do okay - if anyone has any suggestions, just let me know, alright? It can be fixed, if it must be._

_Falls out of her chair at sight of both _Advent Childrenand_ the Gamecube Game _Geist

_What took me so long? Well, this chapter deleted itself on me no less than four times, each time at least halfway through (once, right at the end of the battle with Duriel) and there were several parts that I wanted to redo. My computer tower (that's what its called, right?) glitched and wouldn't read CDs which meant that I couldn't play Sims2 - which is a surprisingly fun game - in which I have Sheik, Link, and Shanis all living together as a happy, normal, dysfunctional family (Sheik hates Shanis, and other way 'round, and Link. . .Well. No one hates Link (except the next door neighbors). _That_ helped inspire me at one point (I love watching Sheik and Shanis argue), but again the computer went down and it sucked, real badly._

_Um, what else?_

_Yes. Duriel _is_ back. As is Anduriel - though you won't see her till later. Duriel tells the group that Demons _do_ come back after death - it just takes quite some time. So. . .No matter what Link does or how long he lives, the Demons will just keep coming back. And, if he lets himself become a Demon, he'd get that nifty little feature too. Though. . .He'd be completely evil. Mwhaha. Which will he choose?_

_Link _does_ go unconscious quite a bit, but when you think about it, your head's gonna get rattled about quite a bit when your on a quest to save yourself from becoming Demonic, fighting Demons who really don't care if they kill you, and a weird, twisted angel who's apparently certain that if he seals you away for all eternity, then he'll keep the world safe from you. That and random monsters, bad luck, and a Goddess fiddling around with your destiny. . ._

_Next chapter will probably be a mixed chapter of Link and Sheik giving Shanis brief, half true versions of their own stories. Sheik's story - or at least parts of it - will be truly revealed for the first time. Great. The other half will be a short thing on Balamb Garden - I'd do the chapter _now_ but I'm at work and my files aren't here._

_Chapter after that deals with the Desert. And the King. Snickers_

_Does anybody know if FFnet removed the respond to reviews is a no no law? I checked the front page, and I can't see that announcement. . ._

_Questions? Comments? Review._

_** H7**_


	60. Chapter LIX Conflicts

_**Legend of Zelda : Trial of a Man**_

_Chapter LIX - Conflicts_

_----------_

**Rise**

_Rise_

_Throw away_

_The charade of your life_

_Let the flame of my heart_

_Burn away_

_Your complacence tonight_

_I command you to rise_

_Wash away_

_The decay of your life_

_Feel the light of your eyes_

_Find the way_

_Through the darkness tonight_

_Fearing no one_

_- Disturbed_

_----------_

Squall," She whispered, half crouched, urgency on her face and panic flooding steadily into her eyes, "I don't _like_ this."

He, staring down at her, only continued to stand there with his arms crossed and that infuriatingly calm are-you-done-yet? expression on his face. . .Though, she noticed a bit of concern dancing behind his eyes, "I know," He replied, pausing, ". . . Neither do I."

"We've got to do something!" She hissed, body worried and tense, "We've got to-"

"Stay up here and wait for the reports," He finished for her, looking back down to the raging battle below them, "This is small. The SeeDs can handle this. I'm worried about what will come after."

"After?"

He nodded, movements frustratingly slow and deliberate, "Yes. After. . ." His eyes wandered back and forth over the fighters, far below, ". . .It won't stop here, no matter how many we kill."

"What do you mean?" She asked, her head cocked as she remained partially crouched, to protect her head against any stray bullets. Squall had insisted.

"These people want something, but its not that simple. They think that by fighting us, they can accieve this goal - Gardens usually only get involved in wars because one side or another will hire them as mercanaries. . .We have not signed up for anything - someone is targeting us, specifically."

"And that means?"

"That one of them has something against us."

She frowned, "A lot of people don't like Garden, Squall."

He sighed, pausing again as his eyes watched a large, flaming ball of magic explode on the battlefield, and immediately, before even the smoke could have settled, he began mentally calculating the approximate casualities of that blast alone, ". . .No, no they don't."

Twenty dead, probably. Maybe a third of those the enemy - if he was lucky - but the majority would definately be from Garden. The approximate percentage of SeeDs to cadets on the field was one SeeD to every twenty cadets. . .Which meant that they probably lost another of their elite.

A slight frown began to work its way across his brow, and his ears registered the sound of even more gunshots.

"Squall. . .We _have_ to go down there - Zell and the others _need _us," she pleaded, ". . .Please, Squall-"

He shook his head, the motion disturbingly final, "No. We can't. If we go down there, there will be no one to guide and direct our forces - we'd be blind and leaderless."

"Then can _I_ go?" He looked over toward her, and she smiled, gently, though there was still a hint of that panic and fear, "I'm a Sorceress, Squall. I can take care of myself. . .And, the others might need my magic." He shook his head and she tensed, a frown developing on her brow, "Why not!" He frowned and she shushed herself. It was so hard to remember to be quiet. . .If she was too loud, the troops would hear her over the radio-

". . .You're a trump card, Rinoa, and I don't want to reveal that you're here, unless we need to," He looked back down at the swirling mass, far below him - it was a shame, really, the beautiful green walkway that lead to Balamb Garden was being destroyed again, "And we made sure that no one - other than the SeeDs - knows where you are. Whatever spies our enemy has will not be prepared for when - and if - we have to bring you out. . ." He frowned, "And that's _why _I keep telling you to keep your head _down_."

She ducked, a shy smile on her face, "Oh. Sorry."

Another large explosion rocked the air around them, and both of them returned their attention to the battle below. This time it was one of their own troops that unleased the blast, and Squall calculated that due to the square footage and approximate density of their opponents, that would have killed up to fifteen of their own enemies. Whoever was the SeeD that unleashed that spell, seemed to be careful enough to avoid hurting any of their allies.

The ground beneath them glimmered white as several other SeeDs unleashed some ice magic, all in unsion.

"Squall, where's Isabel?"

He frowned, looking towards her, ". . .She's in the other room. Why? You doubting her, too?"

Rinoa frowned as well, but Squall could see no distrust in her gaze, "No. I was just wondering. . .Do you think she'll be safe there?"

"She's got several cadets with her - she's actually trying to help direct the SeeDs."

Rinoa paused, ". . .Do you think she's really. . ._psyhic?_"

He shrugged, "I think so. . .I mean, she passed the tests. Even Quistis let her pass, after some scrutiny," His eyes were drawn back to the battle as someone - probably Seifer - summoned Ifrit, and his flaming magic descimated a whole squad of their enemies, "And from what the SeeDs report, she's been very accurate with her information - second to second knowledge. That sort of thing."

". . .You don't think that maybe she _is_ a spy, and she knows all of this because she's had an advance warning?"

Squall shook his head.

Rinoa squinted at him, "How can you be so sure?"

"Look at the battlefied, Rinoa, and tell me what you think," He moved to the side slightly, giving her some space to look out through the giant windows of the Balamb Garden, ". . .See those people over there? Those are our troops. Half of those are being lead by Isabel. From the looks of it, they've only experenced a ten percent casualty rate," He pointed toward another group of people, "And those are our opponenets. I think they've lost a little less than half their forces, already."

"So. . .we're winning, right?"

He nodded.

She sighed with relief.

"Hey, Squall?. . .What's that guy doing?"

He blinked, stepping back up towards the window, looking over to where Rinoa was pointing. There was one guy. . .All by himself. . .There was no one around him, at all. There was at least fifty feet between him, and the nearest SeeD. . .

He frowned. . .

The radio behind them crackled to life.

_"Can you hear me? Commander?"_

"Yes. Report."

The words slipped out of his mouth, almost automatically. . .

_"B-Rank SeeD Brevedre reporting. Commander, we're in big trouble down here."_

What was that lone man doing. . .He seemed to be doing _something_, not just standing there, but for the life of him, Squall couldn't understand just what he was attempting. Everybody - foe and ally alike - were giving him a wide girth. . .But _why_?

_"We've lost Durna and Sandura. Ranyo is injured. Pretty bad. The rest of us, well, we're okay but - Oh,_ Hyne! There was scuffing noises, like people rushing and cursing, and then silence (punctuated only by the distant sound of gunshots), and then suddenly from the otherside of the radio there was the sound of a loud explosion. Near defening.

Squall watched, feeling the build up of dread in his chest and was trying to ignore the way everything felt like it was suddenly spiralling out of control. Down, on the grounds below, near the edge of the Garden, there was a burst of light, and the whole building shook as the dust began to rise.

"Brevedre?" He called out, looking towards the radio, "Brevedre! Are you there?"

There was a long, harrowing moment of sudden silence - Squall knew first hand about the silence that followed an explosion - and then again, the sound of a voice drifted on to the radio, _"Y-yeah,"_ The man on the other end coughed, weakly, _"I'm. . .I'm alright."_

"Report!"

_"Uh, we're not too bad, the explosion got some of the c-cadets, but. . .We're. . .We're okay."_

"Can you get up?"

_"Yeah . . . - ah!" _The voice cut off, falling into a series of harsh, ragged pants, _". . .Ah. . .I. . .I'm okay."_

_"Commander?_" Another voice cut in - female - supposedly taking Brevedre's radio away from him, _"What now, sir?"_

"Call in some medics to your positions, and direct the cadets and whatever SeeDs are with you who weren't too badly hurt in that explosion, and head over to. . ." He fell silent, eyes trained on the man who had still not moved.

_". . .Sir?"_

_Of all the-_

"Pull back!" He shouted, eyes staring down in horror at the scene about to play out before him, "Pull _back!_ I'll be down as soon as I can!" He dropped the receiver of the radio, and watched with wide eyes as the ground about the lone man became laced with a sort of silver, before that strange color suddenly darked into a deep, blood red - almost black. It bled into the concrete as though it really were a liquid, forming strange, archaic symbols that connected into one large circle with smaller circles laced into the design. The symbol looked almost demonic.

"Come on, Rinoa, now its time to play the trump card."

Light shot up in five perfect pillars from the smaller circles in the symbol, rising high into the sky, all leaning inward slightly so that at some point, high up in the clouds, they met together, and the instant the lights touched there was a bright flare. All the fighting below ceased as enemy and foe alike looked up towards this new development. All eyes were on the spell.

Squall, however, missed the dragon's dramatic entrance as it burst down through the clouds, its body lit with that red light like a bright fire, long, serpentine body stretching as it descended down upon his comrades. He - dragging a stunned Rinoa along - was already halfway down the stairs.

------------------------

". . .That's impossible."

I roll my eyes at Shanis' flat, matter-of-fact tone.

"It's the truth."

"It's not." She crosses her arms and looks away.

"It is true," I frown, ever so lightly, leaning back against the broken brick wall I'm up against. It's also got a bit of a ledge to it, and it's not very comfortable, but it beats sitting on the sand/dying grass beneath me. Shanis, sitting on said grass sighs.

"Can't be. If you _were_ a Demon, Link, you wouldn't be here right now, would you?" She looks back towards me, a frown on her face now too, "I don't know if you've noticed, but these Demons, they don't seem to like people very much," I breath a deep sigh and roll my eyes at her sarcastic tone, looking over towards Sheik for some help here, but his eyes are lost, distantly on the desert horizon, "If you were a Demon, I'm pretty sure you would have killed us by now, or would have at least destroyed the town."

"Duh. I'm not a Demon _yet_ - haven't you been listening to me?" I arch an eyebrow at her, "And 'sides, its only supposed to work if I give in to it, anyway. But Duriel and his buds seem to _really_ want me, cause they won't leave me alone."

Shanis looks unimpressed, "Link, I may come from a race of people who do not study or keep records of mythology, but I can see that you're not going to become a Demon. It's impossible, and I know that and I'm not even a scholar, Din's sake-"

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the metamorphasis, Shanis," Sheik suddenly interrupts, stepping forward from the other broken section of the wall that he had been leaning against, "I've been traveling with Link for some time now, and what he's saying is true," He looks toward her, his eyes locking on to hers with that seriousness he sometimes has, "Need further proof? His eyes."

Shanis sighs, palms flat against the sides of her knees as she sits cross-legged on the ground, ". . .But-"

Sheik takes another step forward, disentangling one of his hands, from his crossed arms, and gives a bit of a dismissive wave, "And what about what Duriel said? Or how about you explain Link surviving the fall that he did in that tunnel?" Sheik's frown deepens, "Cause I can't. There is no other way. He's changing."

I cringe, ever so slightly, but thankfully no one seems to notice.

". . .I might not be able to explain those things. . ." Shanis replies, her words slow and cautious, "But a _Demon_? Seriously, Sheikah, I think you have issues, okay? It could be _something _else." She frowns, "Just cause Demons are after him, does mean he _is_ one."

"Guys-"

Sheik's brow twitches, briefly falling into a harsh frown, before falling back into that neutral shade that I am so used to, "Hey. Listen, how long have you been with us? I've been travelling with Link for a while, and I've seen a lot of different stuff. Shanis, there _can't _be anything _else_. He is becoming a Demon."

"Says who?" She responds, taking a step forward, crossing her arms angerily. Sheik's face falls back into that frown from before but this time it doesn't leave.

"Says a Lady by the name of Leona. Maybe you've heard of her?" Shanis gives him a blank look and he sighs, muttering something nasty about the Gerudo under his breath, ". . .She's a Seeress. Probably the most powerful of our time."

Shanis rolls her eyes with an exagerated movement, "Oh, yeah. Really believable there. . .You Sheikah are really _something_, you know that?" She gives a light snicker, and in response, Sheik's frown only darkens.

". . .I'm being serious! Face it, Shanis, there is _no_ other explination! Link is changing into a Demon. That's it, that's _all._"

I frown lightly, "You know, I'm still here. You don't have to talk like-"

"Oh really?" Shanis snaps back, her tone caustic. She points at him, accusingly, "And just _how_ can you prove it? Huh? You have _yet_ to give me one reasonable excuse as to _why_! _Why_ a Demon? Why would someone do that to him? How can you be sure its not into something else, huh? And really, other than his eyes, I don't see _any_ problem with him, actually. And another thing-"

". . .I'm not here," I continue, rolling my eyes and throwing my hands up in a brief fit of exasperation.

"Another thing?" Sheik exclaims, pushing her hand aside, "You've pretty much proven my point for something. He was 'poisoned' by a Demon, the Demon's are after him, and he's falling into deeper and deeper into some pretty dark shit, Shanis," Sheik's brow twitches with what might be anger, or irriation, or maybe even a hint of concern, ". . .I've known him longer than you. Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to make assumptions, yes?"

She rolls her eyes, ". . .You're full of it, Sheikah."

Sheik sighs, but says nothing.

And, for a good long while, the three of us just sit there under a cloud of tension and doubt and I can't help but wonder why things couldn't be different.

-------------------

Squall burst through the exit doors, ignoring the fire alarm that went off in response. Was almost forced to, as the sounds of battle all but completely drowned it out. Gunshots, minor (and not so minor) explosions, people screaming and dying. . .He could hear people crying, too, and wasn't so surprised. This was the first real battle that many of the cadets had expierenced, and Squall could only imagine how many of the dead had friends in the ranks. Friends who were watching them die, and could do nothing about it.

It, however, was the near defeaning sound of a roar that caught his attention.

A large Dragon spiraled its way through the sky, its serpentine body coiling on itself as it ascended into the heavens. . .and returned at a blinding pace, swooping low into the crowds of cadets and enemies alike (who attempted to run away, screaming) waves of fire descending from its maw. The sickening stench of burning human flesh wafted throughout the battlefield, and more than one person gagged.

The Dragon, seeming pleased, ascended once more to repeat the process.

Squall sighed, somewhat. . .surprised.

_You didn't expect _this_, did you?_ He asked himself, smiling wryly to himself, _Perfect Commander, my ass. This is what I would call a _worst_-case senario._

A hand wrapped around his neck, and he nearly jumped out of his skin, instinct screaming at him to go for his gunblade, but he forced himself to remain calm.

He knew who it was.

"What. . .What do you think we should do?" Rinoa asked, the hesitance in her voice unusual, "Its. . .Can we defeat it?"

"I have no doubt that we can," Squall replied, pulling out of her grasp and moving beside her. Together, they both stared at the Dragon, "There. . .It must have a weakness."

Rinoa moved infront of him, and looked at him with questioning eyes, ". . .Magic, maybe?"

"I'm thinking either Shiva or Leviathon, though I think the latter would me more sucessful. We can try lesser magic on it, but. . .I don't know how well that will work," He shrugged, "I guess its worth a shot, either way - we don't really have much choice. We'll just have to make due."

"And the others?"

Squall frowned, ". . .Get Selphie to summon Leviathon - I think she was the last to use him - and if you see Zell, tell him he's running messages today. Seifer, Quistis, Irvine. . .Well, they can assist in any way they see fit. You. . ." He looked down at her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, "Heal them, Rinoa. Get as many as those cadets back up on their feet, as soon as possible. I want as few casualities as possible."

She laughed, quietly, and without real humor, "That's a lot of pressure, you know."

"Then you better get at it. I think I can see Seifer from here, " Seifer was, predicatably, attacking the Dragon. Too bold for his own good, "So I'll see if I can assist him. Rinoa, you'll mostly have to play this attack by ear - I've got a miniture radio on me, and if you need to contact me, you'll probably find another radio on the other SeeDs. Only contact me if its _really_ important, got it?" She nodded, and he gave her shoulder a strong squeeze, "Go on. You've got people waiting for you."

She watched as Squall seemed to take his own advice, and turned around, running towards the Dragon. She stood there a moment longer, staring at his retreating form as he disappeared into the crowds of people fighting and running. She watched as he ran, ducking and dodging blows that were not always meant for him, making his way closer to his goal, and she could only hope that he could do something. Something to quell the rising feeling of fear working its way up through her gut.

Somehow she knew. . .She knew Leviathon wouldn't be able to do it.

_But. . .I can _pray

-----------

Squall twisted his way over a incoming strike, a blow that was, believe it or not, _not_ meant for him. Served him right for running through the middle of a battlefield, but he didn't have any other option. It was the quickest way to the Dragon, and it wasn't as though the Dragon was giving him any other option. The beast was currently ripping its way through crowds of cadets and enemies alike. He could see it as it attacked three, ripping two to shreds with its claws, and picking up the other. The Dragon flew forth, spewing its waves of fire upon the helpless fighters, and the screaming cadet was dropped from its clutches to the ground.

Even from this distance, Squall could hear him fall to the ground with a sickening _thump_.

There was a feeling of. . .of _responsiblity_, and guilt in him that surged at that thought.

And so, he continued forward, eyes watching each and every death that he couldn't help but blame himself for.

For they were _his_ cadets, and against such a foe. . .

He shook his head and instead concentrated on getting there quicker.

It bothered him, the sheer number of bodies he had to run around or even jump over. It seemed like there was thousands, but he knew that wasn't possible. All of Garden's forces and all of the enemies combined could not even come close to that number. This battle didn't have_ nearly _that many participants. For a death count of a _thousand_ they'd need at least another six hundred people to have just appeared out of no where. But down here, on the battlefield, the death count looked dramatically higher than he knew it really was. And not everyone down was dead or dying.

It also bothered him, deep down, that nearly every body had some form of burn wound.

Currently the fleeing cadets were getting a bit of a relief (luckily for them) and Squall couldn't deny the smile the sight brought to him, small as it was.

Seifer was attacking the Dragon, quick and relentless, and damn well annoying the poor creature (anybody that had to deal was Seifer was unfortunate, in Squall's mind), and the thing was screeching in frustration. It attempted to swipe at and murder the blond, but even from this distance, Squall could see it was pointless. Seifer wasn't doing any damage (he couldn't get past the armor on the skull), but the Dragon couldn't hit him, either, and if nothing else, the man was making for an excellent distraction.

He would arrive at the Dragon soon enough, as well, and his approach was infinitly easier than if the thing had been shooting fire at him, too.

Seifer hit the Dragon on its thick skull a few more times, and each time Squall could hear the clanking of metal on bone. It was a futile attempt on Seifer's part, even as he pulled the trigger and the gunblade was robed in flame, the attacks were useless. The Dragon obviously tired of Seifer's pitiful attempts, and instead of continuing to exchanging blows with the Gunblader, it simply released a wave of white hot fire upon the SeeD.

Squall had just enough time to see Seifer's eyes widen dramatically, and then the man forced himself to leap and _twist_ out of the way. It looked like it hurt but Seifer made it out of the harrowing situation unscathed - though, the tips of his white coat did catch the fire, and the man was forced to move to the side and pat down the flames before they could spread, grumbling darkly to himself the whole time.

He only had the barest of moments to reflect on that, before he himself was suddenly upon the Dragon. It was still distracted, apparently _gloating_ over its minor victory against Seifer. Squall swore that he could see it smiling, a dark look on its face. He did not question it further. For while the Dragon was distracted, he struck, jumping the last few feet and preparing a downward sword strike to the creature's obviously protected skull.

Predictably, his blade bounced of with a clank, but he was already striking again. The Dragon roared, and struck at him with its claws, being low enough to the ground that it could easily reach. Actually, Squall was quite surprised. He never noticed when it stopped flying to lay down, belly flat on the ground. Its fiery mane protected the top of its head, and there was fire on the tip of its tail, too, which it constantly whipped about, protecting its back. The cadets could get no where near.

The claw strikes rebounded uselessly off of his sword - easy enough to deflect, however, when it suddenly lunged forward at him with its mouth, he was forced to dodge and move to the side. The Dragon's maw held numerous, large teeth, more than large enough to sever his limbs, he was sure. That was, if he gave it the chance. All he was currently interested in doing was dodging and overall distracting the beast until Selphie could summon Leviathon.

_If anything can defeat this monster, Leviathon can._

He raised his sword to strike again, silently willing Selphie to hurry up, but he stopped himself short. Rather than attack him head first again, the Dragon pulled its serpentine neck back up, raising its face away from him. He watched as the Dragon opened its maw, and he watched as there was a spark, deep within its throat. The spark died out, and then appeared again, and within seconds there was the tendrils of fire winding their way between the teeth and muscle of the mouth.

It was all Squall could do to push himself off to his left at the attack - he opted towards the same technique that Seifer had used, though he himself had no long jacket to worry about. A large ball of fire flew past him, hitting into the concrete and at the contact, there was enough force and pressure from the flame that Squall felt his own ears pop. Hitting face first into the ground, he quickly worked his way back to his feet, and turned to see the charred, twisted and warped concrete the fire had left behind.

He stared - he was lucky. The Dragon was distracted with Seifer again, who was now annoying it with the help of Quistis - at the ground beside him. It was still smoking and sizzling, and it was completly deformed. The fire had been hot enough to actually _melt_ the stone, even if only briefly. Squall didn't even think _Ifrit_ could do that.

_This thing is _powerful_ and I only wish I knew where the guy that summoned it went._

Sighing to himself, Squall began running again. The Dragon was still perched on the ground, fighting and it didn't really matter right now who had summoned him, or even really for what purpose. What was most important now was that he protected the students, and that they end this silly battle of theirs.

----------

The feeling of a Summon was different for everyone, and every Summon. Each person felt the surge of power differently, or not at all. Seifer claimed to feel very little of the power rush - though he distinctly remembers feeling it before, when he was younger. The general consensus is that his time with the Sorceress had dulled his feelings toward magic - if anything at all. Irvine said that while they all differed for him, they all left him feeling ill with dread. And Squall was always accompanied by Shiva. She would junction to no other, and he would not talk about how 'it felt'.

For Selphie, it varied wildly with each and every Summon. She called upon them very rarely - a sort of pact they had all sworn too after the Sorceress War. If the Summons (or Guardians, if you prefer) were truely behind their memory loss, then the Guardians would only be called in dire need (though they believed Squall was going behind their back and using them anyway) - and each time she did, it was another surge of power, raw and strong.

With Leviathon, it felt. . .reluctant, like the Great Serpent himself. Actually, she felt all of her Summons through their emotions, though Leviathon truly came through the strongest. He was a recluse and hesistant, but trustworthy, and once upon a time she believed he would have been the perfect match for Squall, if it weren't for the fact that the Commander would have _nothing_ to do with healing magic. Leviathon's power filled her mind, flooding from the back of her memories like a tidal wave, though infinately slower. He was warm and comforting, once he got used to you, and you to him. To those who called him rarely, he was cold and brisk and almost painful.

Much like the ocean, she imagined.

She could feel his power surging through her mind, too. It was subtle, but it _was_ there. He had the fury and the rage of the sea.

The word _Romantic_ flitted through the back of her mind, and she could _feel_ Leviathon roll his eyes. He was rising to the surface and soon, soon-

She raised her hand and was pleased to the the runes form in their perfect circle around her. Three feet perfect from her body, eight in total. He was ready.

There was the feeling of space and time and _reality_ warping above the battlefield as a long stream of water appeared, almost like that of a floating river. It twist and wound its way down to the fight below, curling upon itself in gentle, perfect curves. Quickly, he took the shape of a Dragon, his natural form - a long serpentine body, much like his foe, glistening blue scales, the grace - and the sound that he made was nothing like the unearthly shriek of the other Dragon. No this was. . .His roar sounded almost more _honest._ Selphie felt no threat from Leviathon, rather, she felt protected and secure.

Leviathon flew high into the sky, his form twisting and turning. The clouds above them quickly gathered and darkened. Seconds later, rain began to fall, putting out the fires that the other Dragon had created, leaving the concrete and bodies to sizzle. Selphie tried to keep her eyes skyward and ignore the streams of blood mixed with water that were flowing past her, all around her, gathering in the low points in the battlefield.

She truly knew that Leviathon could do it. That he could save everyone.

She stared up with a beaming smile as the other Dragon looked up, as if finally noticing Leviathon. The Dragon of fire seemed to be unfazed by the rain, but it could not ignore the Water God's approach. It looked up and gave a shrill shriek, before ascending.

Leviathon met it halfway.

_Oh, I do hope he is careful,_ Selphie thought, frowning, the barest hints of worry appearing in her eyes, _He _can _win. I know that - but I still hope he doesn't get himself hurt._

Even her unbound optimisim could not mask the dread welling up in her chest.

-----------

The gentle voice of a woman calling for him woke him up from his slumber. The Human girl was at times persistant, and annoying, and while she seemed to enjoy waking him and forcing him out into reality from the depths of her mind, he could stand her. Barely, yes, but she was the easiest of the Humans to get along with. She was bright and bubbly and happy, and that was something he could live with. The others were more irritating in their flaws, and if there was something Leviathon didn't like, it was humans and their flaws.

He cracked an eye open to the endless black. This section of her mind was alive with color when he was devouring her memories, but as requested, he tried not to touch them. He devoured just enough to make way for himself, and left the rest untouched. He would, at times, watch and listen to them, and then this place would be alight with color once more - but he never devoured more then he needed to.

She was calling him still, so he rose up from the depths, and made a steady beeline for the surface. For reality. For Guardians exist on nearly all the planes of existence, and for them, it was not hard to go from a person's mind to the real world, and back again, if need be.

He could feel her coaxing him, trying to pull him from her mind. It wasn't that he wouldn't come, but she somehow _knew_ how reluctant he was to battle for humans. At first, he had hated them, calling them a scourage of the world, of the very planet itself, and had denied them access to his powers. However, as with most things, over time he loosed his restraints and one by one, they tried calling upon him. She was the last to try, and the way she _called to him_, rather than just _Summoning_ him appealed to his wary and untrusting mind.

_Humans . . . are but a waste of Creation itself, _He thought. He had often said that, and even to the _other_ Guardians, _And if Shiva wishes to believe otherwise, that is _her_ folly. It shall not be _mine_. Let her drown in humanity with that Human child of hers._

He snorted at the thought, and continued upwards, coiling through her very mind and spirit. Summon him she may, but he would not come like a dog. He was powerful and he knew that, and for anyone who wished to use his strength would have to be willing to wait. He was the ocean, the rivers, water_ itself _incarnate. He was as a _God. _And Gods did not come running to the beckoning of human children.

The Human girl performed the end of the Summoning, and soon enough he was in reality, coiling around through the air and reassuming his shape.

Serpentine Dragon. So much like this foe.

He flew higher, closer to the clouds and called upon the rain to douse the fires of war beneath him. The clouds gathered and darkened obediantly, and a strong yet gentle rain descended, smoothering the flames. As the rain sizzled on the skin of the other Dragon (but causing no permanent damage) it finally looked up, and shrieked at him. He smirked, and flew towards it, letting his body twist and coil above the battlefield. They both met halfway, Leviathon releasing a wave of water and the other Dragon releasing a wave of fire.

Where their attacks met, there was steam.

His water was putting out the fire, but the other Dragon's fire was vanquishing his water.

Leviathon snorted.

_Foul thing, _he thought, pulling away from the other Dragon and coiling upon himself, _A beast it truly is, and not worthy of my attention - but. . ._ He looked down at the Human girl far below, _She has called, and I have come. This. . .Worthy or not, this may be a tough victory. . ._

The other Dragon was approaching him again, its mane of fire shining in the darkness, enough in the rain. Leviathon roared, loudly, and prepared himself for the other. The Other struck at him with claws and teeth and he did the same. Where the other Dragon touched him, his scales burned and bubbled with immense heat, and where he slashed and clawed and bit, the other Dragon's scales would sizzle and turn black.

Leviathon snarled.

It was a meeting of opposites.

_Maybe. . .We _are_ equal in power. . ._

He snarled, and the other Dragon responded in kind.

_Let the battle begin._

_-------------_

The funny thing about the Sight was that it was not really as handy as one would think.

Isabel sighed as she watched the events happening below. The two cadets (Squall said they were there to assist her, but she knew that the others had pressured him into assigning her a guard) behind her continued doing their part of the work, keeping a close eye on the radio transmissions. They were there so that if she 'Saw' something, they could report it to the SeeDs in the fight and hopefully save a few lives.

They were high up above the battle, and she had first row seats to the battle between Leviathon and the other Dragon. And she felt for the Guardian.

Her Sight had already shown her how this battle would end. The Guardian would live, but. . .

Leviathon had just thrown its opponent down to the ground below it. The other Dragon smashed into the hard stone, and Isabel couldn't help but notice that where ever it touched, the stone charred. She could only imagine how many bodies - both alive and dead - it had landed on, killing them with heat that intense. The Dragon looked up and shrieked again, whipping its fiery mane about its head and ascending upwards once more.

Leviathon met it with sharp fangs, and the two, in mid air, dueled. The water God had a grip on the other Dragon's throat and side as it bit down hard just beneath the jaw. The other Dragon screeched, raking its claws down Leviathon's side and hitting him with its tail. Where ever the tail or claws hit, large black gouges were left behind, and even from this distance, Isabel could see that the wounds were steaming. They looked painful.

Not that the other Dragon was doing that much better.

She forced herself to look away, down at the floor.

She had no control over her Sight. It would come and go as it pleased, showing her gruesome images of death and destruction without warning. Often times, it came while she slept. But recently. . .

"Anything yet, boss?" One of the cadets asked. She turned to look at him and frowned, and he sighed and looked back down to the radios around him, raising the reciever back up to his ear. She watched him for a minute longer, before returning her gaze to the floor. Isabel never bothered rememebering their names - it seemed like every assignment she was given new 'assistants', and they were never around long enough for her to get attached to them.

"At this rate," Grumbled the second one, not bothering to look up from his equipment, "We're gonna lose. Or at least have _massive _casualties."

"Well, we're not doing _that_ bad," The first one replied, chewing on the end of his pencil, "I mean, like, maybe Leviathon can kill it."

"He's having a bit of trouble if you ask me," The second one commented, "I don't know if he can do this. At best they're evenly matched."

_I wish I could help them. . ._

"We have to hope he's strong enough - and if this fails. . .Well, the SeeDs do have _other_ Summons. . ."

_But all I can do is _see_ things. . ._

The images descended on her so fast she didn't even feel her knees buckle. Reality faded and was replaced by hyper-real images, far to bright to be anything but delusion. All she could see at first was the usual blur of colors and light and it was driving her insane, like it always did. Nothing was static, everything was blurring and swirling and images were passing before her eyes to quickly to comphrend. When the images finally solidified, however, it was a sudden snapping motion that reminded her distinctly of an amateur camera man. The vision shook and was out of focus, but it got its meaning through.

And that was all that mattered.

As soon as she came to, staring up at the faces of her assistants (who were staring right back down at her, with identical expressions of worry and surprise and concern on their faces), she forced herself upright, and with their help, she was at the radio less than a second later.

---------

_"Squall, watch out," _Isabel's voice rang out over the radio. Seifer blinked. She sounded almost. . .woozy, _"They're planning an attack on Rinoa and Selphie."_

There was a pause, then the sound of leather rustling, _"Who is? The Dragon or-"_

_"I'm pretty sure that it's just the soldiers, but I did see the Dragon flying around."_

No one had to ask what she meant by she 'saw.'

_"All right." _Squall's voice sounded decidedly fatal, in a depressing sort of way. Seifer was sure that he had never heard Squall use that tone before, _". . .I can't get to them right now. I'll send somebody. . .Seifer? Zell? You there?"_

"Yeah," Seifer replied, glancing at Zell, who was standing right beside him. The martial artist lost his radio in a firefight earlier, the small device bursting into an impressive shower of sparks that nearly caught his pants on fire, "We're here. What's up?" He knew already. But it felt better to ask.

_"I need you to go and protect Selphie and Rinoa,"_ His voice was a little hestitant, _"Isabel says someone's going to go attack them."_

"How do you know she knows what she's talking about? And besides, it's not like we're just slacking off over here, you know." Now that wasn't quite true. They weren't slacking off, but they were only taking care of a small group of soldiers, "I mean, have you ever given it the thought that-"

_"Seifer,"_ Squall's voice was strong and commanding. And, Seifer couldn't help but smirk at, annoyed, _"Seifer, I can _see _you from where I am. I believe standing on the spot and idly chatting on the radio _is_ considered slacking off."_

"I'm not just _chatting,_" He rolled his eyes, "If you're so close by, you can see that I am in the middle of a fight."

_"I don't consider two against four much of a battle, for someone such as you. Unless, that is, I misjudged you're ability as a SeeD. Perhaps you'd be better off as a cadet after all. . ."_

The sound of chuckling echoed over the radio. Apparently, others were listening. . .

"Psh," Seifer rolled his eyes, "And like you're doing anything so important-"

_"Seifer. Go."_

"I-"

_"Zell?"_ Zell, standing beside Seifer, said nothing, but perked up at the sound of his name over the radio. He had been hanging close to Seifer this entire time, just to make sure he could hear all the orders, _"Get Seifer to move his ass or he's demoted. I'll come through that area soon and clear up what you've missed-"_

"Show off." Seifer mumbled darkly, rolling his eyes as he ducked under an oncoming blade.

_"-And then I'll see if I can meet up with you. For now, drag the bastard off and go and protect those two."_

"Roger," Zell smirked, and he grabbed the shoulder of Seifer's jacket. The Gunblader glared at him.

"You drag me off and I'll make sure this planet will never, ever be cursed with your offspring."

Zell grinned wildly, and dodging a burst of gunfire, dragged the taller man off into the crowds. The soldiers they had been fighting with paused, surprised, but did not get a chance to catch up. Shortly after been hauled to the side, Seifer jerked away from Zell and ran for himself, if only to keep some of his pride and dignity. It wouldn't have been so bad, in his mind, if it had been Fujin or Rajjin who had to drag him off, but for _Chicken Wuss_ to tell him what to do? He felt his anger rising.

"Did you have to do that?" Seifer snapped, irritated, the singed edges of his coat fluttering behind him as he ran, "If he wants to trust that _witch, _let him do it."

He could hear Zell groan, even though the martial artist was currently doing his best to dodge, duck and outmaneuver a bunch of soldiers who were swiping at him, "Witch? If I remember right, you Seifer were working for a couple of Sorceress for quite some time, both which seemed bent on world domination."

Seifer clashed swords with another soldier, struggling with him only briefly before pushing him over backwards and simply running past him, "Hey! That wasn't-"

"Now Isabel," Zell continued, punching someone and then ducking under a fist that tried to the same to him, "She seems honest enough. And if she was gonna betray us, don't you think she would have done it by now?"

"Well-"

Zell responded to his assailant with a spinning kick to the face, "I mean, if it wasn't for her, Squall probably would have bled to death on the floor, and then where would we be?" Zell ran into a crowd of three, and let his fists fly, "As - as much as you might hate him, we kinda need Squall. He's a great leader."

Seifer exagerated his groan, "Leader? Heh, he can hardly _stand_ us. Ice Prince over there is about as useful as a sack of wet potatoes."

Zell didn't reply, which Seifer thought was a little odd, but he didn't get a chance to comment, as after a thin wave of enemies, they came to their goal. Rinoa and Selphie were both surrounded by a larger circle of soldiers. Without a word, Seifer found himself running hell for leather towards them, his gunblade ready. Those nearest turned towards him as he approached, and as soon as they did, he struck. His blade, in the first swipe alone, disembowled two of them, and they fell weakly to the ground. He raised his blade again, and continued, Zell right behind him.

After a few more slashes, most of the soldiers either were dead or running for their lives, disappearing into the mixed crowds of SeeDs, cadets, and other soldiers fighting. Seifer allowed himself an arrogant smirk, before turning towards the two girls. Rinoa had a nice gash on her arm (which she was already working on healing) while Selphie was untouched. They both looked a little out of breath and shaken, but otherwise they appeared to be fine.

"You okay?" Zell asked, taking a step towards them. Currently there was a fairly large safety bubble around them - after Seifer and Zell's performance, no one seemed willing to come too close. That, or no on had noticed them just standing there, yet.

"Y-yeah," Rinoa replied, patching up the last bit of her torn skin. It healed without a scar, "They. . .just kinda ambushed us."

Selphie nodded, "I was so busy watching Leviathon that I didn't even see them coming."

"Well, be more careful," Seifer sighed, "You had Puberty Boy up in a huff."

Rinoa just gave him a quick glare at the name, and he grinned in response.

"Either way," Zell piped in, "We need to keep moving. Actually, if one of you guys have a plan for taking down that Dragon-"

"I can't think of anything, other than Leviathon, and last I saw he looked a little worse for wear-" Rinoa stopped short, eyes going wide, "Watch out!"

Seifer turned around, just in time to get a swipe from the Other Dragon (_fuck it_, he thought, _that's its offical name now_) to his shoulder. Strong pain errupted throughout his upper body, and he imagined that this was something like what a branding iron would feel like. He fell, to the side, a vain attempt to dodge a second attack which never came. The Other Dragon was far more interested in the two girls.

As it flew past him, Zell delivered a strong kick to its jaw, which stalled it just long enough for the two girls to get a little distance between it and them. The Dragon roared, the sound more like a scream, and redirected its attention to the now much closer, much more desireable (who wouldn't be angry after being hit like that) fighter. Seifer, quickly working his way back up to his feet, watched as Zell's eyes widened, and the martial artist had to preform a half-assed backflip to avoid some very, _very _large teeth.

Luckily for him, Seifer was right there again, slashing at the thing's protective head armor. It wasn't doing any damage, but it was enough to distract the Dragon from trying to dismember Zell. The creature snapped and snarled at him, slashing at him with short forarms, but it was all in vain - Seifer had dealt with worse before, and while he wasn't causing any damage, he could at least _block_ such simple attacks.

He shot a curious glance around, between strikes.

_Damnit._

He was just in time to see the body of Leviathon disappear from where it lay. The body changed back into its water form, and after holding the shape for a few seconds, it burst, and a thin wave of water raced across the ground.

The Other Dragon didn't even seem to notice, but no one else really did either. A wave no higher than two inches or so wasn't going to change the tide of battle. Other than various dismayed groans and cries of despair, there was no real outward action towards the development. People kept screaming and dying, and Seifer didn't know what to do now.

The Dragon soon gave up trying to attack him, and within its mouth, Seifer could see the beginnings of a spark. However, it wasn't aiming at him, nor Zell. He whipped around in the direction it was facing, just in time to catch sight of the retreating form of Rinoa.

_I. . ._

The spark turned to flame, wrapping and twisting around the dragon's many teeth. The creature seemed to smile with its mouthful of fire, and began lifting its upper body higher.

_Agh. . .Squall, you're going to owe me for this one!_

Without further thought, Seifer leapt, up on to the Dragon's head. He landed on the armored scales surrounding the skull, and was very, _very_ glad to see that the creature's immense heat didn't seem to penetrate that portion of the body. The thing gave an irritated growl at him and gave a brief and futile attempt to shake him off, but it did not stop what it was doing. Seifer hadn't expected it too. Rather, he was ready to force it to change targets. Quickly, he stabbed his gunblade deep into the back of the Dragon's neck.

Just as the Dragon shot the fireball, it screamed. Seifer, feeling his heart race, he gave the blade a strong jerk, fighting to overcome the strength of the Dragon. The Dragon screamed again, and attempted to overpower him. However, it was already too late.

Seifer watched, feeling a strong wave of relief as the fireball soared over the heads of everybody and smashed fairly harmlessly into the side of the Garden. Some of the wall did crumble at that, but it was better than a fireball right in the middle of the battlefield. If he allowed Rinoa to die, Squall would have had his _head_.

Before he had a chance to relax, however, the Dragon was pushing itself up off the ground, high into the sky. The Gunblader panicked, and attempted to pull his blade free, but it was too late to jump off - unless Seifer fancied falling to his death. The Dragon shrieked and began rolling through the air in a complicated series of flips and loops, hoping to shake him (and ultimately, kill him). He had no choice but to stab his blade into the neck flesh of the Dragon, or risk falling.

It put him a little closer to the mane of fire than he wished to be, but he had to take that chance (he couldn't imagine being singed being worse than falling down _splat_).

_Squall, you owe me. Big time. . . And _now_ would be a good time for you to make it up to me._

-------------

_"Commander? Can you hear me? It's Isabel."_

"Unn . . ." Squall pushed himself up to his feet, dusting the rubble off of himself. He had been fighting beside the Garden, when he heard a large explosion above him. Whatever it was, it knocked down a few tonnes of rubble. Staring up at it now, he knew he was lucky that he wasn't crushed, ". . ._Huh_? Yeah," He sighed and reached down for his radio, and held it up to his mouth. The explosion also killed many of the people he had been fighting with.

". . . Isabel? What is it?"

_"Leviathon's down._"

Squall looked down at the thin layer of water covering the whole battlefield, "I noticed."

_"Seifer's stuck on _top_ of the Dragon."_

"What do you suggest? I have no clue how to beat this thing - I thought Leviathon would have been our best bet."

_"Well, if you don't mind my suggesting, there is Shiva. . ."_

"Ice against fire? I don't see that working."

_"You doubt her too much."_

"What are you getting at?" He frowned.

_"You know the balcony on the side of the Garden?"_

"Yeah?"

_"Bring it down."_

He rubbed at his scar, "What's that supposed to accomplish?"

_"Just trust me."_

"Whatever." Squall looked up to where the balcony was. It was almost right above him, but he couldn't get there, not quickly anyway. From his location, he'd have to run to the entrance of the Garden, work his way through (it probably was all but infested with those nameless enemies about now) and then head to the second floor. From there, he could reach the balcony - but that could take some time. It would be much simplier if. . ., "Hey, SeeDs? Is there anyone near the second floor of the Garden?"

There was a pause.

_". . . Squall? Is that you?"_

"Yeah. Who is-"

_"Oh geez man, Zell was just telling me about how he saw you get flattened with the debris from that fireball."_

Squall looked up. The stray fireball had hit just below the balcony, and the missing debris created a sort of depression right beneath. Squall smirked, realizing that the blow must have weaked the stability of the Garden's balcony itself.

"I did, but I only got caught by a few of the rocks."

_"You're lucky man."_

There was a chorus of aggreement. Apparently several of the SeeDs were listening in.

"Who am I talking to?"

_"What? You don't recognize ole Irvine?"_

_"Quistis replying. Irvine and I are both near the balcony. Your orders?"_

"Bring it down."

_". . .Sir?"_

"Bring the balcony down. I'll clear the area, but bring the damn thing down, and soon."

_"Commander, that's a solid piece of the Garden. We'll never-"_

Squall stared at the gaping hole beneath the balcony, "Not anymore. Do it."

Quistis sighed, _"Yes sir."_

--------------

"You know, Quistis, we might want to consider the idea of Squall fallin' off the old rocker."

"Irvine, give me a hand here," She replied, shooting him a glare, "He's told us to break this off, so that's what we're going to do."

The sniper half shrugged, leaning forward and whispering almost conspiratorily, "But what if-?"

"Irvine, _all _of history's greatest mistakes came from someone questioning someone when they shouldn't have," She looked up, glaring, "Now help me bring down this damn balcony!"

A panicked/surprised look crossed his face and he spun around, as if he thought she must have been talking to someone else. However, when she growled at him, he snapped to attention and ran to her side, a bit of an embarassed posture to his body.

"So. . .What exactly are we supposed to do?"

"We're supposed to destroy-"

"No, no no," He waved his hands in front of him, "No, I mean like, how are we supposed to do it?"

"I. . ." Quistis paused, "I don't know. A strong enough spell, maybe?"

The both paused, thinking. Down below, they could see the chaos that was running rampant. People fighting down below, a Dragon flying over head (Quistis was quick to point out Seifer, still stuck on its head, and definately having trouble), and someone was firing magic up at the Dragon as it flew. Ice magic, and from the intensity of it, she would have to say that it was Rinoa.

Irvine gave a little jerk, and then began digging through his pockets like a mad man. Quistis looked at him an arched a eyebrow.

His hand came out with a grenade firmly in his palm.

Quistis pulled back, "What? You should have _told_ me you were carrying a live grenade!"

Irvine rolled his eyes, and gave it a little toss, "It didn't blow, now did it? Well, do you think this can do the job?"

"Um," She stared at it, "I think it should work. . .Here, come and give me a hand. . . I have a plan."

------------------

Seifer was ready to admit several things.

1) He was in trouble.

and 2), as much as he loved Rinoa for all her attempts to save him, firing magic up at him didn't seem to be helping much.

A blast of high powered ice magic roared up past him, just narrowly missing him. He was beginning to wonder if she really was trying to help him, or was in fact trying to get rid of him, because it seemed like every one of her attacks just narrowly missed him. He jerked to the side to avoid the blast, and while it missed him, the effort caused him to pull his blade loss. Tripping and falling off to the side, he realized something.

Giant flying serpentine Dragons that breathed fire and were immune to apparently all attacks were not something that you hopped up on to and flew off with, especially when it was trying to eat you.

As he tripped, falling over the edge of the beast's head, he knew he only had one chance unless he really did want to go _splat._

With one smooth motion, Seifer drew his sword back and plunged it in deep into the scales on the side of the Dragon's face. The tip of the blade slipped in between the nearly invincible scales right under the eye, and the again the Dragon screeched, jerking its head to the side and away. The gunblade remained firmly embedded, nonetheless. Now, hanging without anything beneath him, his sword into the face of a Dragon, Seifer was at its mercy.

It roared, loud and fierce, and again whipped its head to the side, pulling him closer.

Seifer swung there, still hanging only tightly to his sword, but the momentum was bringing him closer to gaping jaws.

It was an awkward angle for the Dragon, but still it snapped at him, and Seifer found himself kicking off of the side of its face just in time to avoid loosing his legs, though his own momentum died and he again swung back towards the creature's jaws. The teeth closed shut again with an audiable _snap_, less than a second before his feet came back in biting range. This time, he kicked off of the teeth and tried to swing himself _upward_, but the attempt failed. The Dragon saw what he was trying to do, and whipped its head towards his body.

Luckily, it missed, but when the Dragon righted its head again, its mane - previously blowing in the wind - came around and hit Seifer, right in the face.

The pain was immense, and though it was brief it seemed to last forever. It was worst along the edge of his chin on the right side of his face, and the skin felt more than burnt - he swore he could feel it _bubbling_. For one, brief second he _swore_ he was gonna let go, or something - but some how, through some sheer force of will (and swearing like a salior) he was able to keep his grip.

But he had a feeling that that wouldn't last long.

Another blast of magic passed both him and the Dragon by, missing by a good ten feet.

The Dragon was eyeing him up again, and now, looking up, Seifer realized the Dragon was bringing them closer to the Garden. It was circling the Garden, but it what it was planning, he wasn't quite sure. Suddenly, it gave another great jerk of its head, swinging him upward. The move seemed almost illogical, until he had peaked, and was coming down again.

Right into the Dragon's jaws.

Seifer gave a startled yelp and began twisting his body to the side in a vain attempt to escape the teeth. But it was no use. This time, there was no where else for him to go-

There was a whistling sound, and a thick _thud_, and the Dragon screamed, twisting its head to the opposite side. Seifer was, again, for the moment safe, and he risked a glance to see what it was that had saved him.

A large arrow lay imbedded in the creature's throat.

He smiled, relief washing over him.

It wasn't enough to kill the Dragon, but it _had_ saved him.

As much as he didn't want to, he would have to thank her once he found his way to the ground again.

_Fuck it,_ he thought, groaning in pain, _I'll just get Squall - who owes me a favor - to pay off my favor that I'm _going _to owe to her for me. Quick and simple._

The Dragon roared, and he looked up. The Garden was steadily approaching. The Dragon was flying right towards it.

"What are you doing, you _stupid_ Dragon!" He shouted, attempting to be heard over the wind, "You'll get us_ both _killed!"

He couldn't do anything but try to hold on, even as the building became ever closer.

_Stupid thing, what the hell is it trying to do? Hyne, it's gone suicidal! _He glanced up at the Dragon and was surprised to see how intently it was staring at the wall, _ Hmm. . .Maybe I could jump to the wall and hang on or _something_-_

The final few feet closed in, and just as Seifer was about to jump, the Dragon did a last second _twist_ and swerved around the Garden, its belly just about scrapping on the building.

Seifer, his blade still stuck in the scales of the Dragon, ran along beside it. He couldn't let go of his gunblade, and if he did pull it out, he'd slip and fall. The Garden was far too smooth here to just get _off_. He had no other choice. The Dragon glared at him out of the corner of its eye and it snarled at him. It, apparently, had tried to either knock him off by bashing him into the building, or crush him between its large body and the structure.

But the _balcony_ was coming up - Seifer tensed himself even as he ran along side the Dragon (damn thing was too fucking fast), and prepared to pull his blade out at just the right moment.

The Dragon shrieked again and snapped at him, halfheartily. It seemed more interested in just trying to get him _off_ rather than trying to actually devour him.

_Oh, I will get off of him._

The balcony approached.

_And when I do so, I am _so _gonna stab this sword down his fucking throat._

_--------------_

Zell threw his fist straight into a man's face, deeply disturbed at how happy he was when he heard the resulting _crack_. But he had no time to stand there and think about it, and he knew that. Rinoa was still shooting her magic at the Dragon, in an attempt to free Seifer - how that was going to work, he had no clue - and the soldiers were using her distraction as an opportunity. She was trying so hard to be careful to _not_ shoot Seifer that she hardly had any time to pay attention to her surroundings.

When Zell first saw the predictament that she was in, he valiantly jumped to her aid.

Another soldier came at him, and he grabbed the man's arm, twisting until he heard a painful crack and the resulting scream. He punched the man in his face, tripped his legs out from underneath him, and moved on to the next man, who was staring at him warily.

He couldn't help but worry for Seifer, even though at the best of times he and the other man didn't usually get along. Things just weren't going his way, today. And not to mention that Squall nearly got crushed to death (he could see Squall running around and definately _alive_, so his worries there were undone) and he couldn't see Quistis or Irvine or Selphie. Rinoa, he knew at least, was safe, but that could change in a second, if he wasn't careful.

Over all, it was an overly stressful day.

He darted towards one particular soldier who was getting uncomfortably close to Rinoa, slid the last few feet and took out the man's legs. Quickly (ever aware of the other soldiers moving in) he grabbed the man by his collar, lifted him up, and threw him into a couple of other soldiers who were making their way over to them.

One of them managed to dodge, and was making a beeline for him now, but he was prepared. The soldier raised his gun, but Zell simply knocked it out of his hands, and moved to deliver a solid roundhouse kick to the face. To his surprise, the soldier caught his foot, and twisted it, and with a groan of pain, Zell was sent to the ground.

As soon as he hit he was rolling and moving to get up again, but the soldier landed a strong kick to his side - nothing fancy, but enough to send him off course.

Hopping up to his feet, Zell got ready for round too, raising his fists.

He could see the soldier smile in response, grinning, and raising his fists as well, almost mocking him.

Zell was on top of him before his smile could even completely disappear.

Two strong punches to the man's face knocked him back, and a third - an undercut, actually - made the soldier fall over, backwards, on to his ass, rubbing his chin.

It was Zell's turn to smile, but a loud explosion interupted him.

He whipped about to stare at the balcony - a thick cloud of smoke covered the structure, but he still knew what it was - but he couldn't see what was going on. It wasn't a huge explosion, but it did shake the balcony, and for one, brief, horrible second, he thought it was going to fall. It was only so weak from that fireball from earlier, but if that fell -

His feet went out from underneath him without warning, and he landed hard on the concrete, just in time to get a boot to his face. It hurt but by the time a third attack was about to come around, he rolled out of the way and sprung up to his feet, dodging under a punch, ducking another and sidestepping a third to get some space between him and the soldier.

The soldier grinned.

So he smiled back and bodychecked the man.

And watched as the man went flying back, hitting into Rinoa.

_Ooops. . ._

He watched as she was knocked to the side with a surprised yelp, and the spell she had been forming went awry, completely off course.

Smashing into the balcony, right above the Dragon and Seifer.

And he watched as the balcony fell. Right on to the two of them.

_Oh. I am _so_ in shit._

------------

Squall watched as Seifer was pulled by a mixture of cadets and SeeDs to safety. The man was unconscious, but alive. Which, realistically, was a relief.

_Can't afford loosing any more people tonight._

The balcony had come down in a heap, crumbling and crushing both the Dragon and Seifer.

Both he knew were still alive, but the Dragon was still trapped. The majority of the soldiers had finally run, having their numbers reduced to nearly nothing, and now the only real threat was when the Dragon would finally work itself free.

He cleared his throat of the dust that still hung in the air, and sighed.

_I suppose its time I do what I _should_ have done in the very beginning._

Through the rubble, the head of the Dragon burst upward, it's face armor cracked and various wounds all over its body bleeding. Its eyes were wild with fury. It roared, then shrieked, slowly but bit by bit pulling its body up off of the ground. The large chunks of rock fell off of it as more and more of it was revealed. It glared right at him and screamed, taking off once more. It rose, winding and rising through the air, angry and full of hate.

Squall raised his hand and called _her._

Deep in the back of his mind he searched for her strength. She was cold but strong, and surprisingly comforting. She felt what Squall expected it would have felt like to have a mother. he swallowed, hard, and reached out to her. Her power seemed to respond to him right away. He could almost imagine her turning towards him, with a warm smile that would contrast the ice in her eyes.

_I need you, _he whispered. And to his surprise, he _heard_ her answer back.

_"I know."_

There was a burst of light on the battlefield, and the ice rose from the ground, Shiva incased inside, arms folded over her chest in her prision. There was no waiting, no runes, no feeling of reality splitting. She was as she always was when he summoned her, perfect and flawless in her shell of ice, waiting. He stared at her.

She snapped her eyes open.

And the prision shattered.

Shiva, Queen of Ice, turned towards Squall.

And she _smiled._

------------

She rose up off the ground, rising high and fast in the air, her graceful form flying around that of the Dragon. She knew she was quicker, and stronger. But she was not one to fall to overconfidence. She raised a hand and released a bolt of ice its way. It simply swerved around the attack, apparently unfazed. It too was a thing of power, though long ago corrupted. Somewhere, deep down, she felt bad for the creature. The serpentine Dragon turned to glare at her, roaring.

_Abomination,_ She told it, her voice meant only for it, _Demon and monstrosity. You do not belong here. Begone._

**_I go where I wish, Goddess,_ **It smiled at her, and unleased a wave of fire upon her. She merely outmaneuvered it, continuing to fly beside it, **_I shall not be commanded by one such as yourself._**

_You follow the One of Fire,_ She replied, forming several large chunks of ice above it. Again, it dodged deftly - she wasn't ready to fight it truly, not just yet - _She commands you, and you serve her._

_**We all serve Din, some of us just do not know it.**_

_And you would bow down to the false Queen so willingly?_

_**She is the true Queen. I shall serve no other.**_

_As you wish,_ She replied, forming a ball of magic in one of her hands, leaning in towards him.

He turned to her with one of his shrill shrieks and flew in close.

He lashed out at her, approaching with claws and teeth bared. She deftly dodged between his claws and under his gaping maw, under along his belly, and as she flew she twisted upside down and released her spell into his fragile underside. He screamed at her, even as she came out from underneath him, and he twisted up to curl around and meet her. She greeted him, twisting around his head and releasing another of her spells, right into his face. He shrieked again. One of his eyes bled. The section of his stomach where she attacked him was bleeding and a mess.

She was tearing holes into him like he was paper, and he could not touch her. She smiled.

His face plate had been cracked in an earlier battle, and now his face was almost completely exposed, bleeding and ruined. His weakness, put on display for all to see.

Pulling back, away from him, she rose high, forming a spell in her hands. Two balls of light, one above each palm grew, glowing brightly, until they were easily the size of her fists.

He simply watched her, knowing he had lost - ashamed that he had lost so quickly.

She looked down and locked eyes with him, high above the battlegrounds. Below, death and destruction - the fire had all been put out by the previous rains, but the smell of death was heavy in the night air. The concrete was charred and even broken in areas, and the blood, mixed with rainwater, pooled in the recesses and low points of the ground. Dark clouds gathered overhead. They were both like shining stars - he was scarlet, marred only by the black wounds and scars covering his body. She was sapphire and gold, perfect and flawless, high above his head.

_You've lost, Volvagia._

He did not answer, only snarling at her, and she smiled again.

She released the magic, flinging it down at him and it _flew, _racing down at unbelievable speeds, slicing through the air and leaving thin trails of frost behind.

They struck straight into him, and at the touch his scales went white, frosting over and dying. He shrieked on final time as the ice spread over his body with an audiable crackling noise, and mere seconds later, the form of the Dragon _fell_ - dropping to the ground and shattering into a million pieces.

There was silence, and then _everybody _was cheering.

Pride soared through her at the shout that went up from below, and she smiled, still floating up high in the sky. Even from this great distance, she could see Squall, and how he was staring at her with wide eyes. She winked at him and let herself fade from their sight, racing down to meet her child and embrace him with her cold arms. He might not know, but she loved him, cared for him.

He was like a son to her.

She wouldn't let any harm come to him, or those he cared for.

----------------

_**A/N** : Shiva kicked its ass cause Squall used the Boost. Yeah. :P_

_Spell check offically died on me. I have no way of spellchecking this - so if you spot any errors, just let me know. I went over it a couple of times, but nobody is perfect. I'm not a hundred percent certain that I like this chapter, so if there's something confusing or just plain stupid, please let me know._

_I've recieved two (well two and a half, if you count Elenath's half finished picture of Link and Sheik) pieces of art for this story, and I'd like to offically thank you guys for sending in the pictures. Its surprisingly inspiring, and I quite enjoy staring at them. However, like the idiot I am, I've forgotten the name of the person who did the Act I Poster. I feel so bad, but their name is on the tip of my tongue! Gah!_

_Either way, I got a poster of some of the characters in Act I, and a great picture of Malon by CanIhavea-Soda and a picture of Link and Sheik by Elenath._

_Also, thanks for all the reviews (as I write this, the story is clocking in with 539 reviews). Again, more inspiration!_

_And I don't believe I've stated it, but yes I'm slowly going back and redoing all the chapters. That shall include the infamous Chapter XX, one that I've hated since the day I typed it. Check for the 'new' marking beside the chapter title. Chapter I is almost complete._

_I will blame the wait on the fact that my computer at work refuses to accept Rich Text Documents (which is what I normally write this as). So, for like, four months there, I was __trying to type something, but my disks would corupt when I would switch computers. However, its fairly safe to say the __real culprit is my own procrastination. :P_

_Next chapter __is 3/4 typed up already (in a midst of writer's block, I skipped a chapter), so, maybe we'll have more luck there._

_P.S - The lyrics above, well, I hummed and hawed for a long time about what to put up there. Don't know if you'll agree, but I kinda thought it fit. You see who you believe it applies to._


	61. Chapter LX Relations

_**Legend of Zelda : Trial of a Man**_

_Chapter LX - Relations_

_-------------------------------------------------------_

_This version is not yet spellchecked. It will be properly edited and such over the next few days - but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting. See any errors? Point them out - I've got a horrible memory and any help is appreciated. Thank you for your patience._

_-------------------------------------------------------_

The burn of the alcohol winds its way down my throat painfully, but the bloom of heat that spreads in my stomach puts me at ease in the way that only liquor can. I smile, if somewhat falsely, and lower my head down into the crook of my arm, on the table. I feel ready to fall asleep, and I'm sure I look it. Forehead against my arm on the top of an old, splintering wooden table. My other hand is still upright, clutching weakly at my mug.

I rub the pad of my thumb up and down a crack in the glass.

Around me I can hear the quiet mill of the bar - people talking, murmuring, laughing and cleaning. Its a comforting sound, and I bury my face farther into my arm.

We're in Aral, now - a desert country owned by two races - the Gerudo and the Hylains. Sheikah don't exist down here (not normally, anyway. Half the people we've run into so far have nearly had a _heartattack_ at the sight of Sheik), apparently because the Gerudo wiped them out. What they couldn't kill, they forced up north, where the race slowly withered and _died_.

_Not true_, I think to myself, and I can almost hear the slur in my own mind, _They still live, but. . .They're not really Sheikah anymore, are they?_

That's what Shanis told us, anyway. Not that Sheik needed to hear it. He seemed to know it all already, anyway, as he should. But that brings up another point.

If all the old lines of the Sheikah are dead, why is Sheik around?

Like, I have never seen a better example of a true Sheikah (ignoring the fact that I've only met two in my life, and one of them was almost _exactly _like Sheik), and if all the lines are supposed to be dead. . .It just doesn't make sense and Din knows Sheik won't talk to me about it. I _tried _to get him talking earlier but he made up some half assed excuse and walked away. He hasn't been talking to me all that much, not since what happened in the cave.

And Shanis _is_ talking to me but she won't shut up about the whole Demon thing and it's driving me insane. I don't need to be _reminded_ every _five seconds_ that I'm turning into a monster.

I lift my head up just long enough to grab another swig of my drink. While I'm up, a barmaid swings around and wipes a decidedly grimy looking cloth about me and my table. By the time I let my face slump back down against my arm she's already gone and the wood smells like _gross_. It smells like mold and mildew and _vomit_. But the dim scent of smoke in the air dulls it enough that I forget about it almost as soon as it popped into my head.

Shanis is still fairly convinced that I'm _lying _to her (what could be so bad that if I_ were_ lying that I would concoct such an _idiotic_ tale about Demons and Angels? It's so absurd, it _has_ to be the truth) but she's been watching me real close out of the corner of her eye anyway, as if being careful. I don't care. Now I've just got one _more_ person staring at me waiting for me to _pounce_ or something. Its annoying, but. . .

I pull my head up just enough that when I let it drop it hits the table with a good _thud._

I do it a couple times more for good measure.

**_Stop it,_ **He growls, irritated, **_Do you _want_ brain damage?_**

I arch an eyebrow, and glance over at my mug. He sighs.

_**. . .You're impossible.**_

I grin, and I can feel him settle down, just a little. He's brought himself to the forefront of my mind again, while before I could just feel him milling around lamely in the back of my head. I can't. . .I can't really _talk_ to him there - its almost like he blocks himself off, as if to be alone. But then, suddenly, he'll come forward like this, like he cares, or something.

I lower my head again, this time just letting my chin rest on top of my arm. I stare blankly at the wood of my table.

_**So. . .Where's the Sheikah?**_

I shrug, ". . .dunno. He's a Sheikah. . .Comes and goes as he pleases. . ."

He glowers darkly in my mind. I can almost imagine his eyes, set against tanned skin and under dark hair, glaring, **Don't_. People will _hear-**

". . .Let them," I slur, staring at the golden liquid of my ale, ". . .Don't care."

**I_ do. Now, stop this before it becomes a bad habit,_** I feel him pull back, just slightly, evaluating me. The glare is gone, but its replaced by something else - something I can't quite place - but it doesn't feel like he's mad at me. . .**_I don't want you to go around and make people think you're crazy. Bad enough that they can _see_ you're changing. _**

_. . .What's your name, anyway?_

**_Huh?_** He pauses, frowning again - but in confusion. I smile wearily, and swirl my drink. My head's spinning.

_What's your name? It's getting too confusing._

**_I. . .I don't _have _a name-_**

I roll my eyes, my drink coming very close to tipping over, _You _must.

It's his turn to roll his eyes, **_What do you think I called myself? I was a 'Link' too, you know - but ever since I found out I wasn't the _only_, I stopped calling myself that._**

_So what do _you _call _yourself

**_Must I call myself something? Do you walk around thinking things like; 'Link must go around doing this cause he's turning into a wretched monster?' I haven't referred to myself as any_body_ for _years**

I frown down at the table, but say nothing. I can hear him sigh, and then he abruptly turns himself away from me, as if angry. I mumble something to myself about him having a stick up his ass, or something, and the thought brings a bit of a grin to my face. Sometimes he _does_ act like he's got a stick up his rear. I chuckle to myself as I take another sip of my ale.

But he's been surprisingly helpful and understanding the last while, and I must say that it worries me, deep down. He's supposed to be my enemy. He's supposed to hate me for unwillingly getting him caught up in my destiny, unwittingly trapping him in _me (how odd is _that But. . .I can still see that he hates me, but he's not as. . .

I blink and stare down at the table. The tendrils that were my thoughts slip from my mind, and I force myself to concentrate on them once more.

_He's not as _volitile_ as he was_, I think, trying to keep my thoughts quiet, as if that will prevent him from hearing me, _He's. . .He's - ah, _fuck. . .

I drop my head back down into the crook of my arm, and try to fight back the wave of dizziness that tries to overcome me. I stay like that for some time, and eventually it passes, though slowly. As soon as I'm sure that I'm not going to throw up, I raise my head once more, and look around myself. It is getting late, but there are still patrons besides myself here - actually, if I can remember straight, this tavern is open all night long. . .I think.

I frown.

"_Is something wrong?_"

I look up. Malon smiles down at me. The sight somehow catches me by surprise, but I can only stare up at her, still frowning. There's something strange about her, right now.

"Where have you _been_?" I ask, more than a little tipsy - alone, in a bar, in a strange town talking outloud to _myself_ - . . .maybe I _shouldn't _have drank so much.

"_I can't come near you when _he's_ around. . .He blocks me from you, you know,_" Her smile warms further, "_. . .I don't think he likes me._"

"Really?" I mutter, taking another sip of my drink (even though I _know_ its not a good idea), "Can't imagine why."

Something in her gaze glints, but in a _bad_ way. I barely have time to register that I saw it before its gone, and she's talking again, ". . ._Link? Have you been _drinking?_ You're slurring._"

"Really?" I mutter, somehow geniunely surprised, "Didn't notice."

I reach for my drink again, and she just watches me as I gulp down some more of the ale. I finish the drink, and set it down. The glass touches the table with a heavy thunk, and before I even have a chance to let go of the glass, Malon places a hand under my chin, lifting my gaze. I stare up into her blue eyes, and there's an honesty there that I'm not familiar with, at least not from her, and I can't pull my eyes away. I'm vaguely aware of her smiling, speaking - out of the corner of my eyes I can see her mouth moving, saying _something_, but I can't pull away.

She's still smiling and her voice is so soothing that I find myself nodding to everything she says, though I still have no clue. . .The blue of her eyes draw me in. Deep blue, like. . .like. . .like the blue of royalty. Deep and powerful, shot through with a lighter tone, like the blue of the sky above. I remember. . .I remember, as a child, sitting beside her on on the green grass, staring at her face with the sky as a backdrop, and seeing those colors intertwined with the clouds and the heavens above-

I give a start as I feel her grasp one of her hands deep into the fabric of my shirt, fingers tightening into my collar, holding me still. I still can't pull away, half stunned that she's actually touching me and half paralyzed by something else. My eyes widen as hers narrow with malicious intent and yet the only thought running through my mind is that she can actually _touch_ me, which means that she must be _real_-

The hand she held under my chin is suddenly infront of my face, palm towards me, and I can feel something in me _surge_ forward, like she's calling it. It feels terrible and awful and I try vainly to hold it back as it rushes forward, but its strong and angry and it claws its way through my being like a wild animal. I can almost feel it snarling in the back of my head, and I use what little control I have left to block it.

It struggles against me, powerful and relentless, but this is _me_ its dealing with and I'm not letting anything _own_ me like this. I meet it with a ferocity of my own, but just as I can feel it start to give, I vaguely hear Malon say something (I'm so focused, I almost forgot she was even there) and whatever it is moves forward again, strengthened. This time, I _can't_ meet it and I quail under its power. It pushes me aside like nothing and I can feel it, moving through me. My skin burns like acid and all I'm aware of is this thing, filling me, and Malon's poisonous smile-

I feel something, suddenly, akin to surprise (but not my own. . .) and suddenly there's something else rushing forward from me. He rises from the depths of my mind, moving forward quicker even than this. . .this _cancer_, and this time it is he who meets it. I can feel it flinch under his strength, and to my surprise, he attacks it mercilessly. I almost expected him to try to help it, but instead I can feel him tear away at it. It (whatever _it_ is) immediately pulls back, trying to retreat, but I can feel him as he pins it, and-

He says _something_ but I can't hear and suddenly there's a flash behind my eyes and-

-------------------

**_Eh,_** I sigh, **_That wasn't very _fair_, Malon darling,_** I force Link's limp body up and off of the table, my bright blue eyes meeting her darker ones with a touch of smugness as I attempt to squeeze out the ale that has soaked into one of my sleeves, **_You shouldn't force that on him. Makes my job harder._** I smirk at the indignant, angry expression on her face. Her fists are clenched tight, down at her sides, her muscles taut. She looks nearly ready to explode. I restrain a laugh, and right the mug.

_"You. . ._You_!!"_

**_That was actually sort of fun_**, I smile at her, pushing Link's consciousness farther back in case he might wake when I'm. . .like. . .this, **_Yes. That _was_ fun. _**

_"You. . .bastard. I hate you!"_

**_Interesting how you can hate when you're not even really a seperate entity. As much as you hate to admit it, all you really are is Link's conscious tainted by Demonic influences. You're just a piece of him that's gone and got its own opinion - in reality, you are _nothing**

_"That. . .That I _might_ be. . .But. . ."_ She's so flustered that she's floundering, and seeing the bar to still be empty (what luck, for us to be alone during this. . . episode) I grin right at her.

**"Admit it," **I reply my darker, deeper voice emerging from Link's mouth with its usual silky tone, **"And truthfully, I was expecting more out of you. That little attack of yours might have been enough to throw off Link, but you're going to have to kick it up a notch, cause I don't fall for that shit." **I lean back in the chair, putting my feet up on the table and crossing my arms behind my head.

She opens her mouth to reply, but suddenly the waitress comes back in from the back, and seeing the mess (the ale is still pouring down on to the floor), she rolls her eyes and immediately heads my way. I give her my most charming smile, and flip her a nice tip. She arches an eyebrow in surprise, but I simply wink, and head for the door, Link's boots thudding in a pleasant rythm under me.

I can hear Malon hiss as she follows right on my heels.

_"Why!"_ She demands, _"Why must you interfre? This is the _way_ it's _supposed_ to be! You were never part of the plan!"_

I look over my shoulder at her, still heading to my destination, **_Wasn't, was I?_**

_"No!" _she screams, absolutely furious, _"No you were not! Son of a _bitch_-!"_

**_Now now now,_** I calmly retort, turning to face her completely, walking backwards (but I'm still heading to the inn. I don't want to be out too late around here - there be thugs in these parts, I'm thinkin'), **_You can't say that. You _can't** I smile, the grin nearly splitting my face in two, **_I never had a mother._**

She wails, exasperated (and angry. Don't forget the angry) with me, _"I hate you!"_

**_Well, ain't that a shame,_** I reply, turning back around so I can actually see where I'm going again, **_ Cause you and I are gonna be together for a long, _long_ time._**

She looks up from her sobbing, for just a moment, _". . .Why? Why do you care?"_

**_Cause without Link, there's only one brother still left alive, Malon, and I can't let us fall so far - I _need_ to know the truth._**

Suddenly the Inns doors are right in front of me, and I push my way through. Behind me, I can feel Malon disapate - she's surprisingly strong willed for the short amount of time she's actually been with Link, but she is no match for me (one of the benefits of being an onlooker, I suppose) - before she even reaches the door. Her fading presence leaves behind the foul taste of displeasure in the air, tainted with her anger. I smirk, and climb the stairs, tossing the bartender a quick tip on my way up.

The wood beneath my feet creeks and groans in time with the dull thud of my boots, but I don't pay any mind. I'm not keen in running into the others as they'd yell at 'me' for going out to the bar this late, but if I start creeping around, I'm just going to raise more suspicion. The Sheikah is wary as it is, and I'd really prefer to _not_ give him a reason to watch us closer.

He's been cautious since the cave, and in hindsight, I took a few more risks than I needed to. Letting myself get knocked aside so easily. . .If I had been more careful, I could have at least held Link back long enough so that when he came to, it would have been. . .less noticable. Maybe I could have waited until evening fell and then I could have told him everything when he came too. Made it seem like he just hit his head and then blanked out, rather than him just 'waking' up in front of the other two.

**_Those two_, **I snarl to myself as I hit the top of the stair, **_are getting in the way._**

But despite my heavily engrained urges to just kill the two of them and rid myself of them forever, I _need_ them to pull this off. Its a fact I'm not proud of, but I have to have some help, and if Link goes crazy or actually starts _listening_ to Malon, everything I've done will be wasted.

I relax my face a little, rubbing at one cheek as exaustion starts to descend. With things going the way they're going, I've both got time and yet I'm running out of it. With each step we take, we get closer to the other, and Link's not ready for this, yet. If I were in _my_ own body, this would be a lot easier - since I'm not so keen to kill him anymore, I'd drag him through the desert myself right to the other and get this all said and done with, but. . .

I can feel the corner of my lips twist in a snarl, **_Fine. I'll admit it - if I still had my body, I'd probably still be trying to kill that brat, _**I roll my eyes, **_I hate him. None of this changes that. But-_**

"What are you doing up so late?"

I whip around to see the Sheikah standing behind me, only a few steps back. I nearly jump out of my skin and while I hide my surprise beautifully, he notices and merely arches an eyebrow at me, crossing his arms and shifting his weight. I remain quiet and after a few seconds he simply sighs and shakes his head, dropping his arms back down to his sides.

"Out at the tavern again?" he asks, and suddenly it hits me - he thinks I'm Link! He doesn't notice anything wrong! "You really have to stop going and getting yourself drunk. One of these days some thief is going to come across you and-" he pauses, narrowing his eyes and taking a step closer to me. I lean back a little, watching him carefully, ". . .You're _not_ drunk?"

". . .**Uh-**" I pause and cough into my fist, and then I pull back and smile at him, "Um, no. No I'm not. The stuff tasted like crap."

The look on his face is still suspicious, maybe even more so, and he takes another step forward. I take another step back, ". . .That's never stopped you before."

"And that tells you just how _horrible_ this stuff was. I mean, I had a _little_-"

"I noticed," he interrupts, wincing, "I can smell that stuff on you."

"-but I'm not drunk," I finish, frowning lightly at him.

He waves it off, "Still, its unlike you."

"What are _you_ doing up so late, anyway?" I ask, walking forward again, heading in the general direction of Link's room.There's a moment of silence, but I can hear the Sheikah follow.

"Couldn't sleep," he hesitates, ". . .We're heading out into _Gerudo _territory tomorrow, you know."

I nod, still looking forward, ". . .Getting skittish? We've been traveling with one for sometime now, I hope you know."

I can't see it, but I can almost _feel_ him rolling his eyes, "Yes. I'm _aware _of that."

"Then why are you so nervous? They _can't_ be any worse than her."

A hand suddenly falls on my shoulder and he forces me to turn and face him, "What did you say?"

I blink, ". . .I said 'they can't be any worse than her' - what the _hell's_ your problem, any way?"

The Sheikah's frown darkens, ". . .Nothing. I. . .I just thought you were_ serious_ about that, for a minute. Next time tell me when you're joking."

"Well duh," I blatantly roll my eyes, huffing, "Of course I was joking. Geez. I'm starting to think that you're the one who's drunk."

He lightens up a little at the tone of voice, but I can still see he's on edge, "Well, you know why I hate Gerudos, anyway."

"Sheik, I'm quite aware how your races are mortal enemies and all, and how apparantly the Hylains are somehow caught in the middle. I _know_ all that," I turn back around, and push open my door, and somehow I'm not surprised when I hear him follow me in, "Even if I'm not some damned scholar I know that much at least." I pause, "Hey, how the hell did we all afford our own seperate rooms anyhow?"

That damned Sheikah ignores me. Oh, only if he knew who he is _really _talking too. Maybe then he'd show some respect- "I don't think you get it Link. Gerudos _kill_ Sheikah on sight. And _you're_ _half_ Sheikah," he pauses, letting it sink in, "Do you get what I mean now?" He crosses his arms, "We're both in for some deep shit."

"You take these things too seriously," I respond, sitting down on the bed. Its as hard as rock and I can't help the dismay that courses through me, ". . .I mean, _you're_ afraid of some Gerudo?"

He arches an eyebrow at me. I continue.

"Look at Shanis. She hasn't killed us, now has she?" He looks unimpressed, "I mean, if the Gerudos were so uptight about this, don't you think she would have at least attacked us?"

"Shanis doesn't count," he replies, "She's a nutjob."

I chuckle, "Okay, true. But I honestly have faith that you and I could take on whatever comes our way."

**Farore_, I'm starting to _sound_ like the damn brat._**

"Are you feeling alright?" the Sheikah asks, "You're. . .a little off. Is something wrong?"

"Huh?" I look up, "Oh, um no. Nothing."

He doesn't look convinced, but he sighs and continues anyway, "Even if they _don't_ kill us on sight, then who's to say they won't get us when our back's turned?"

"Okay then," I lean back until I'm right against the headboard - damn old thing gives a loud creak as I introduce it to my presence, "We get to the fortress, and we can take turns walking backwards - no one will sneak up on us then."

"Link. . ."

"Fine, fine," I sigh, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my arms, my face buried in the rough fabric of my sleeves, "What do you suggest?"

He shrugs, "If _I _could think of anything I wouldn't be here confiding to you, right now."

"Then how about we just go right past?"

"No."

"What?" I cry, looking up, "Why not?"

"Then they really _will_ hunt us down and shoot us in the back."

"Well then," I grumble, feeling decidedly sulky, "If you're so damn smart, you figure out something, Sheikah."

He pauses for a moment, before spinning right around. I watch disinterested as he paces throughout the room - I'd prefer we just waltz right in, and if anyone doesn't like that then fine, try taking us down (I won't loose to a _girl_) but if the boy in blue (and white, and red) wants to think of some fancy pants plan, then fine. Let him - I'm tired of this and I want him to leave me alone.

Just as I'm about to gently kick him out, he stops, and slowly turns back to me.

"What?" I ask, grumbling under my breath about Sheikahs and their stupidity - of course, making sure to be quiet enough that he can't hear me.

He doesn't, "We could use the old prisoner act, where we pretend that Shanis has captured us-"

"Can't," I reply, not even raising my head, "Gerudo's won't fall for that, and sides, when they figure out that we've 'escaped' they'll still send the guards after us," I pause, thinking, ". . ._and_ possibly kill Shanis, for incompetence, or something. That is, of course, if they don't kill us the instant we cross through the doorway."

Sheik frowns.

"Then what. . ."

"Realistically, I think your overthinking this-"

He quirks his eyebrow, "And I think your _under_thinking this."

I wave him off, "-I say we just walk on in like we own the joint, making sure that Shanis is nearby at all times. I mean, I really doubt that she's just going to let them kill us, after all we've gone through together."

"Link, I don't think you understand. She's a Gerudo. Gerudos-"

I roll my eyes blantantly, "You got any better plans?"

"How about not going to the wastelands at all?"

"No one asked you!" I snarl, and my mind explodes with hot fury and yet there is some small, rational part _screaming_ at me to keep my voice even and in its current lighter tone, before I ruin _everything_. The Sheikah takes a sudden, surprised step backwards, and for once I can _see_ the shock on his face. My rage keeps coming, despite my efforts, so strong that I feel Link stir gently in the back of my mind, "No one _asked_ you to come! If you're going to be such a** goddamned **chicken shit, then you can just go!"

He falters, the irritation in his face disappearing completely at the confusion in mine. Its replaced, briefly, with something I can't quite catch. Something that looks like surprise, but I can't be sure - its gone as quickly as it comes, and after a hesitation, he fixes his posture, standing up straight.

". . .Forgive me about being concerned for your _safety_," his face falls flat with that lack of expression that the Sheikah are so known for, "Please excuse me."

And then he leaves.

And I'm alone.

**_Oh great,_** I snarl to myself, **_I've gone and done it now._**

And even through my anger and my frustration - I just want to pick up something and _throw_ it - I can hear Malon in the back of our mind, laughing.

------------------

When I wake, I find myself in my room, on the bed and under the blankets and everything.

Which is _odd_, since I distinctly remember _blacking _out.

I frown with bleary eyes as I rise, slowly, the blanket sliding off my form as I sit upright. The harsh desert light streams into my room, barely dulled by the thick blinds that adorn the window, filling the room with long shadows and absolutely rupturing my _poor_ eyes. I raise a hand to shield myself and squint heavily, searching about my room with that fuzzy, thick minded feeling of someone just roused from a deep sleep.

_Come to think of it, why did I wake up anyway? It's still early, and I'm a bit tired yet. . ._

But not only is all of my equipment and clothing where it should be (and 'where it should be' meaning strewn about the room), everything else is as it should be - I half expected to see Sheik or Shanis or _something_ watching for me, or trying to sneak into my room or something that could have woke me up, but there's nothing. Nothing out of the ordinary, anyway.

Blinking, I push myself further upright, using my arms as support. The air is already getting hot even though it can't be ten o'clock yet, and its fast gaining that stifiling feeling that all deserts seem to develop, and its having an effect on my body (as it always does), making me feel sluggish and slow. It almost makes just sitting here and sleeping some more seem like a good idea - enough so that I give a yawn without meaning to. Hesitating for only a moment longer, I force myself up and away from the rock hard bed, landing on the floor and hearing it creak beneath me.

Somehow I almost expect Sheik to just waltz in right about now (not that I would _actually_ expect Sheik to _waltz_ - which would be funny), but no one enters, so after a surprisingly awkward pause, I start heading over towards my things.

_I remember blacking out after having. . ._words_ with Malon. . .And suddenly I'm in my room and I'm not wearing anything but my pants and my clothes are all over the place and my equipment is thrown in the corner? _I frown, _I don't remember it, but did I somehow manage to make it to bed last night? I could have sworn. . ._

Silence. Complete and utter silence - and no answer comes to me.

_You! _I call, trying to project my thoughts, _however_ one does that, _Dark. . .Me. Thing. Dark! Get over here!_

There's a moment of nothing, and then I can feel his attention snap towards me. He seems a bit surprised but then he starts moving forward, sliding like a ghost in my mind. Suprisingly, there is no feeling of hatred or anger or resentment as he draws near - only mild curiousity.

_**What?**_

"What happened last night?" I ask, pulling on my shirt - I still haul around my jacket but its _far_ too hot to put on during the day, "How'd I get here?"

_**Um, you walked?**_

My frown deepens, "I mean how did I get out of the bar and to here? I thought I blacked out," I pause, "And just what _did _happen last night?"

I can hear him sigh, shuffling around in my mind with uncharacteristic hesitance, **_Your psychotic girlfriend decided that she was going to have some fun with you. . .So, I stopped her._**

"You stopped her?" I frown again, but this time in confusion, "Why?. . .And just what was she going to do?"

**_I did it cause I hate her,_** and there's no lie about that. I can feel him sulk at the thought of her, his anger dark and dangerous - like an oncoming storm, **_And I really don't know. Either way, I didn't like it and I'm not just going to let her go around, throwing her weight about like she damn well _owns_ the place-_**

"You. . ._helped _me?"

**_Yes, _**he snaps, irritably, **_Now shut up before someone thinks your crazy._**

I smile. . .and shut up.

------------------

The Sheikah stole us horses.

I yelled at him, for doing so - and we were _really_ exchanging some words - when Link finally pointed it out to us (me, really) that I hadn't done much better when I originally stole the boat tickets to get us here, to Aral.

So, I swallowed my pride and fell silent.

At least, outwardly so.

_Mune,_ I whine, sighing outwardly, _Talk to me. Keep me company._

I can feel her stirr in response - but she doesn't come forward.

_Mune, save me from these idiots._

This time I can feel her sigh and she comes forward - though not her physical form. She often chooses to come to meet me, face to face (though transparent she shall always be) but we've never tried this with others around and we don't know if they could see her, and as such its not a worthy risk. Rather, instead of her tiny figure following me about, I just get to her her childish (yet, distrubingly wise) voice rattling around in my head.

_"You called?"_

Even though I've been with her for some time now, I will never get used to her voice. She sounds like she is seven years old. Ten at the most - and yet she is so wise - more so than any adult I have ever come across.

But her words are always filled with dark and secret knowledge. Advice that one must heed and yet be wary off.

_Yeah. What do you think's gonna happen at the Fortress?_

She pauses, thoughtful, _"I really can't say. I have never been to see your fortress - for all my knowledge, this may go smoothly. . .Or, perhaps I shall be shifted to a new bearer."_

She sounds almost eager.

I frown, _Like hell I'll let _that_ happen! I went through so Goddess damned much to get you, they'll have to pry you out of my cold dead hands._

_"Which_," she replies, voice light and without mockery, _"They always can. No mortal is invincible."_

I sigh.

_When I'm with you, I _feel_ invincible,_ I roll my eyes at how corny it sounds, _Though that too, is a liability, I suppose._

I can feel her nod.

I look over in the direction of the Half Breed. His horse has been acting skittish ever since he got it (and we've already been riding for a good three days now), bucking and twisting under him until he sent a sharp heel into its side, and still it reacts like a wild beast. He's managed to control it, just enough, but it still barely tolerates him - and our horses won't at all. Any time he tries to inch closer to us, our horses attempt to scatter. The whole process has been particularily annoying, and as such, we've just forced ourselves into a setup suitable for the horses.

Me at point, the Sheikah a few feet behind me and to my left, and Link a good ten feet behind me and at least another fifteen to my right.

When I look back at him, I can just make out the hilt of his fiery red sword over his shoulder. Its gold glints strangely in the sunlight, almost like its. . .aware.

_My dependance on you, Mune,_ I look forward once more, eyes focused out on the far horizon, _That is my fault. A liability. . .But, I must wonder. What is his?_

_"His what, my Lady?" _Mune replies, hesitant, though I am sure she knows what I ask, _"I do not understand."_

_Like hell, _I snarl, careful to not make any noise, _I know his sword is special too and I thought there was only one of you guys! And lo and behold, another fancy pants sword. Does his talk too? Does it cause him problems and annoy him and _ruin_ him?_

There's a long awkward silence in the back of my mind, _". . .We don't _ruin_, we just _fault._"_

She sounds not quite insulted, but almost chagrined.

_Answer me, _I reply, feeling my anger rise.

_". . .His sword is indeed like I," _her voice is sorrowful, sad and distanced, _"But he is not yet aware of its abilities. As for side effects. . ."_

_Yes?_

_"The Hellplague is a sword that represents both the intense inferno of Hell and its pestilence. Its bite causes venomous wounds, and its touch robs the owner of his warmth."_

I blink, surprised, _Why wouldn't he just drop it, then, if it was freezing him up?_

Mune smiles - I can_ feel _it, _"Because while it steals his heat, it returns a little as long as he's holding it - haven't you noticed that he has it drawn often, even for no apparent reason? Its touch warms him again, bringing strength back to stiff fingers - if he were to drop it now, he would _freeze_."_

_Ooh, ouch._

_"Indeed,"_ Mune's voice is almost praising, _"A clever design for that sword. With such a defense, the Hellplague should never have to worry about being abandoned."_

_Is that what your curse on me is for, too?_

_"Sort of, but also not quite," _She sounds almost regretful, and I can just imagine her expression, _"It is not a voluntary thing - it is something to protect our survival."_

I smile, _I find it funny that even though you are for all intents and purposes, dead to the world you are trying to survive._

There's something in her voice that gives me pause. A little catch, some piece of wisdom that goes sailing over my head but I try to grasp it anyway because it _feels_ like there's a secret meaning in her words and I'm not going to just let it _slide_, _"True death is oblivion, and it is only in death do we understand life," _she pauses, sounding strangely sympathetic, _"One day, you will understand."_

I frown, _I'm not sure I want to. . ._

_You will someday, _she says again. _We are bound to fate, and time. Death comes for us all, whether we wish it or not. . ._

------------------

The open desert stretches before us, wide and vast and goddess _damned hot_.

The wind blows the sand my way, and I raise my hand to stop it - however all those little particals just manage to find their way around me and into my face, stinging my eyes and clogging my breath. The sand lodges itself into my mouth and throat (and, undoubtably, into my lungs) and I wonder just how healthy can this be? It can't, I know it can't - so how can all the Gerudo tribes manage to continue on and thrive when their very wind brings death?

I cast a quick glance from the corner of one tearing eye to catch sight of my companions - Sheik's pulled his cowl up and his bandages down, until the only thing I can see are his crimson eyes staring out from tanned flesh. He adjusts his headgear, briefly, before glancing my way, his eyes meeting with mine. Less than a second later his eyes are once again on the horizon in front of us, though they again flicker towards Shanis.

She seems almost unfazed by the winds - the way they howl sends a chill down by spine - a little facemask of white cloth before her nose and mouth, held in the spot by a black leather string, decorated by tiny obsidian beads. Despite its flimsy appeareance, it seems to be serving its purpose well, as unlike me, she's not hacking and coughing on all the sand being sent at us.

She takes no notice of my watchful gaze, and so, with a muffled sigh (I've got my mouth and nose right against the back of my hand) I redirect my eyes.

The sun glints off the tan sand, giving both the land and the earth almost a golden haze thats quite. . .blinding, really. All around us there is just dunes and sand and little hills and more sand. If it weren't for this storm, I know I would be able to see the far off mountain ranges before us, to west. In the early morning light they were almost purple, raising almost unnaturally straight up from the ground, almost like an altar, of sorts. Something crafted thousands of years ago by the hands of the goddesses themselves, special. Divine.

At the peak of the range, the mountains just level themselves off, perfectly flat into a defined plateau.

According to Shanis, we are _many_ days away from the wastelands, nevermind the plateau, so its going to be vast. Huge.

This morning, staring out over the vast sands to the west, to that mountain range and its plateau. . .Even from this distance I could make out the shape of a tower. Black. Reaching out for the heavens, lonely on that peak - that _altar_. Even from this distance, it almost feels like its calling out to me, begging for me to come closer so I can solve all my problems. Fix everything and make all this. . .endlessness go away.

_I'm so close. . ._

Except the expanse of a near limitless desert seperates me from my goal.

_Shanis said six days of hard riding to get to the fortress - we're on day five now, but this storm might delay us a bit - and in total, she said something like a month to the plateau._

I frown, trying to ignore the sting in my eyes as I calculate.

_Okay, so lets say that we've made good time so far, so that this storm won't slow us down. Day five, with twenty five left, then - thereabouts, anyway. Can't guarentee it, but, _I pause, at last shielding my eyes as a particularily strong gust of wind perks up, _That's not that long. We could be there, even with less than pleasant weather, in maybe a month. The wasteland will be tough - just like the desert, so little water, so we'll have to stock up again before we leave the fortress._

_**That is, of course, if they even allow you in the fortress in the first place.**_

I arch an eyebrow, _What do you mean about that?_

A sigh - he sounds decidedly sulky, **_Think about it, genius. Gerudos. Hate. Sheikah. And, you are a Sheikah in their books, even if you're only half._**

I hesitate, _Well. . .We have Shanis with us._

Dark huffs, **_She might help, she might not - we have no guarentee._**

_There is no _we, I hiss, _It's _you_ who is doubting her. Not me. I, at least, have faith in my friends._

Dark laughs, loudly, the sound reverberating in my skull, **_Faith? You are naive, aren't you?_**

I frown, _Bastard. We'll be fine._

He shrugs, **_Yeah. You just might have to be._**

_And what do you suggest? _I ask, bitter, _What can the great shade come up with that I cannot?_

**_I do not even think it wise to enter the Gerudo domain_** - he pauses, suddenly uncertain - **_but then again, to even approach the wasteland, we'd have to cross through their territory, and as such, I guess it would be a good idea to get their permission. _**He shudders, **_Damn Gerudo rats would probably hunt us down, otherwise._**

I nod in (mild) aggreement, _I think it would be safer, too - but. . ._

He growls, **_I wouldn't place all my trust on that woman. She might be friendly and all, and maybe she _will_ pull through, but that doesn't mean that the other's won't try something._**

I nod again, realizing the truth in what he says, even if I don't want to admit it. Just because we'd be with Shanis doesn't mean that they'd listen to her. I'm not sure how the Gerudo system works, but I'm sure that there no real laws or anything (they're a bunch of _theives_), but then again, wouldn't theives need laws amongst themselves more than any one else? Or is it just an idea of a death threat system by their King? Betray him, and he kills you? Cause to much trouble, and he kills you? Steal from your sisters, and he kills you?

I haven't been able to get much out of Shanis, but she has given a little up. Apparently, there are five different tribes of Gerudos in this desert. Each controls their own territories - the size and location varying on the strength of the tribe. Shanis' group is the largest, called the Aral tribe (and have the entire continent named after themselves. Shows you just how. . . _accomplished _they are), and they pretty much dominate the other groups.

Now, each tribe has several fortresses, but just like the Gerudo back home, only one King.

Well, five Kings in total, technically - each tribe has its own King.

The King lives in the main fortress, but spends much of his time traveling with a special entourage between the other fortresses in the territory. Just like home, he rules everything with the Gerudo. His word is law. There are no ifs and or buts. Nothing. He rules every aspect of Gerudo life, and they all bow down before him. He is the one man that they know and trust and will die for.

Beneath him, there is the Leader of the Gerudo. Each of the fortresses has its own Leader (example, the Aral Tribe has five different fortresses in its territory. So, one King, five different Gerudo Leaders) that rules in the King's absence, following a stern set of rules or routine that he's left behind. Its the highest position in the fortress and the most honorable, next only to the special entourage.

The women within the fortresses are ranked by the color of their clothing. Shanis has mentioned white, purple, red, green, and even black. She's also mentioned that sometimes, especially talented warriors will get a uniform of a unique color, such as yellow or blue. This marks them as being special individuals, something that apparently the Gerudo praise and honor. Being a part of the Color Guard often pushes you in the right direction for a promotion to the special entourage.

But its about here that Shanis always clams up. She won't tell me just why she was kicked out of the Fortress (and I can _so_ totally see that going the wrong way and getting us all into trouble) and each time I ask she just gets this worried look in her eye. Its brief and fleeting, but its still _there-_

**_You're getting more observant,_** Dark purrs absently from the back of my mind, his tone reminding me of a cat curled up in the sun. He sounds lazy and tired and distracted, and it suddenly comes to me _- Does he ever sleep? -_ **_We might make it out of this alive and intact, afterall._**

I roll my eyes at him, _You have _no_ faith in me, do you?_

_**None.**_

_Thanks for the vote of confidence, _I pause just long enough to sigh, _. . .And don't say _we._ You and I are not. . .one person. We're not and we'll never be so stop talking like we're one!_

**_Pfffft._**

He doesn't sound like he cares.

I just let my shoulders droop, focusing my eyes again on the distace. These swirling sands make it too hard to see, but I can still feel that call. . .

_**. . .Listen, Kid.**_

I perk up, despite myself, listening intently.

**_I'll make you a deal._** He rises to the forefront of my mind, close enough that it almost feels like he's _on top_ of me, suffocating me with his presence. Its highly uncomfortable and I recoil like mad_ - **Trust me, and I'll watch your back, 'kay?**_

_How do I know that I can trust you?_ I ask him, my skin crawling as he finally recesses back, a bit, _How do I know that _you're_ not going to betray me?_

Again, he shrugs, but with a smug smirk, **_You have to sleep _sometime. _You'll have to trust me. Eventually._**

_. . .I don't know if that's comforting thing or not._

He chuckles, but says nothing more.

Again, silence descends between us.

The only sound outside or inside my head is the whistling of the wind across the dunes.

------------------

**"I do not like this."**

_"I am fully aware that you are not fond of the changes in your plan," _Baal hisses, atop the throne and somewhat sprawled, and _pissed off,_ _"But, dear brother, there is not much you can do about this. Had you stuck around, perhaps your plans would have reached their fruitiation by now, however, you were defeated. I had to carry on your plans - on a whim."_

Diablo scowls, **"My plan worked surprisingly well, did it not?"** His scowl changes to a smile as he crosses scaly arms and bares teeth that could belong to no human, **"And, despite your. . ._bizarre_ changes to it, it can still succeed." **His tail slids back and forth across the stone floor in aggitation, scraping as it slides and leaving large archs in the dust. Baal sighs, leaning back further into his stone throne.

_"Just what is the purpose of this. . .excercise? Why do we care so much for the boy?"_

**". . .In every era of humanity, the pathetic humans cry and wail over their loss of life. They claim that the individual is weak, but can change everything," **Diablo's golden eyes darken, considerably, **"They lead themselves to believe foolish things - that the _pen_ is mightier than the _sword_ - but at the same time, they turn around and contradict themselves. Majority rules. That there is strength in numbers."**

Baal rolls his eyes, thin, gnarled hands gripping tightly at the arm rests, _"Dear brother I did not ask you for a history lesson - that knowledge is old to me. Explain to me why we care about the boy."_

**"He succeeded where no other could,"** he smirks, **"Tyrael and the human leaders sent legions and legions after us. Their armies fell - we always had and always will have the better numbers - until, at last, they managed to capture us." **An embarassed tone enters his voice, but still it booms, echoing through the dark chamber, more mental than actual sound, **"Despite all of their previous efforts, we were not taken down by armies, but small, select, elite groups."**

Baal hisses out a pained sigh, his eyes rising to study the arched carvings on the ceiling, _"Not some of our brighter days, for certain."_

Diablo nodded, **". . .You, myself, and Mephisto managed to corrupt our guardians - Mephisto only had to entice and sour those temple spirits who surrounded him. As with many religions, there is always room for greed and lust of power, and as such it came as no surprise when I heard that he had taken over the jungles of Kurast. And as for myself, it was but a trifle to corrupt the mind of the hero who had captured me. With the soul stone embedded into his own head, I could easily just reach down and poison his soul."**

_"You made a good choice," _Baal whispers, thinking to himself, still seated on the dark throne, his many tentacles slithering about him, over and around the throne, _"His body was strong."_

Diablo nodded, **"And as for yourself, they were foolish to try to seal you into that mage, Tal Rasha. That sorceror's powers have been of some assistance, I assume?"**

_"Of course, but what does this have to do with-"_

**"But, despite our strengths and newfound bodys, which we twisted and deformed and reconstructed, that blasted boy managed to come along and defeat us all. By himself, without any help at all. So strong for a mortal, so damned foolish and annoyingly courageous." **Diablo hissed, angry, **"Do you blame me for wishing to add such unusual talent to our species? To have a fourth brother. . .We could very well be unstoppable."**

_". . .You're hoping that your Demonic influence will fester his soul and turn him into one of us?" _Baal laughed, _"Dear brother you are but a fool. Many men have created great sins before, and while some do become Demons, it takes something. . .special, to become a Prime Evil - and here I thought that you actually had some great plan. I am ashamed dear brother - we've been wasting our time."_

Diablo snarled, **"Silence. I am fully aware of just what you thought this was going to accomplish, and how it was to be done - but you were not there when I made the decision, and as such I understand that you do not quite realize just what this is. I do not plan on just corrupting his soul, because while that is the most assured way of him becoming a Demon, it just isn't enough. Mortal men become Demons when they cause great sins, and as you said, it would take something special for him to reach our level, or, at least, many many mortal years of such villany. I do not have the patience for such waiting games."**

_"So then, just how are you-"_

**"While my poisons will indeed deteriorate his mind, I actually left something special in him, to destroy his soul."**

_"That doesn't allieve my fears at all. It will still take-"_

**"Again, this wouldn't be enough - it could be thousands of years before proper results. I knew that even at the time that I fought with him - amazingly, my strength was waning, and I knew that I needed an edge - even if I couldn't call upon it until after I returned from the Abyss. So, I also added something else into the poison - an actual . . .virus, of sorts, that will force his physical form through a tough series of. . .evolutions. Rapidly."**

Baal didn't respond, glowing green eyes intent on the smug form of his brother.

**"That virus serves three purposes - destroying his mind, soul, and body. While he loses his sanity and morality, his body will also change - thus saving us thousands of years of waiting. It took much energy, but we may soon have another brother amongst us."**

_"It definately _sounds_ plausiable. . .But how did you discover this?"_

**"It was a dream of mine for many aeons - I practiced and experimented quite regularily upon the human cattle who hounded us, however, it always ended in failure - my longest surviving subject only managed to live for two months after the injection, upon which his already twisting and mutating body just. . .ruptured. Rotted on his bones even as he lived."**

_"Is that what Duriel has been rambling about?"_

**"Yes. He was there to see that spectacle, actually. The failures disgusted me, but I still went on with my studies - many of the subjects couldn't live for more than a week before they'd die. The longer they'd live with it, the more harrowing their death. It was rather discouraging."** Diablo curled his lip, **"But then that damned boy came along. During our battle, I knew I was going to lose. His detirmination was just too strong - so I decided to take a gamble. I injected him, knowing two things - at best, we could have another one of us, evil incarnate. At the very worst, I knew that the poison would kill him - possibly saving us some trouble later on."**

_". . .Tyrael didn't factor into your plans, did he?"_

Diablo shook his head, **"No. I hadn't given him a thought, actually. Sealing the boy was wise on his part, though it only stalled the metamorphasis."**

_"Six hundred years. . .Had he not been sealed away, he would have been a full fledged Demon by the time you returned."_

**"The fact that he has survived this long with the disease is most promising - and still, it isn't killing him. The physical changes to him have _use_ - on my other subjects, they just rotted away, alive. And had he not been sealed away, I'm certain that he would have been completely corrupted long ago. I designed this disease to take control and corrupt as quickly as possible. I'm sure that you have seen the changes already taking effect."**

_"A disease designed to change our very opponent into one of ours? A most interesting prospect, indeed. How is activated?"_

**"We simply have to surround the boy with our influence - but even if we don't succeed in capturing him, it is only a matter of time."**

_"How many years do you figure, brother?"_

**"We're talking months, not years."**

_"That is. . .impressive."_

**"If we manage to capture the boy, then we only succeed in speeding the process. If we fail to procure him, then he will soon turn to us, anyway."**

_"You're suggestions, then, brother?"_

**"I will send Andariel. Whether she fails or succeeds is of no real consequence - he _will_ join us. If she fails, then we shall think of it as a training excercise for him."**

_"And if she is defeated? Duriel has already returned to the Abyss - I do not wish to see our numbers lower than they need to be."_

**"She will be given the direct command to flee if in real danger-"**

_"A Demon fleeing from a mortal," _Baal laughed, quietly, _"How low we have fallen."_

**"If she fails to retreive him, then I shall head his way."**

_"At the very least, this should be entertaining."_

Diablo twitched his tail, and smiled, **"This shall be more than entertaining, brother. This could lead us to a completely new way of life - imagine, Demons that we ourselves manufacture to our needs. . ."**

------------------

_A/N - I had to cut this chapter off here - any longer and it was going to kill me. There was still a lot more to be done - I was going to have a rather large section on them entering the Gerudo Fortress and _stuff_ happening, but there's no way I could fit all of that into this chapter and _not_ kill someone with its incredible length._

_Heck, as this sits, its already 64 kb, and with all that I still wanted to add, this chapter probably would have ended up being over 100kb. So. . .I chop it off here, making what was already going to be a two parter chapter a three parter. Lovely._

_But at least this wait wasn't quite as bad as the last?_

_Oh, and in case I confused any body, both the Hellplague and the Masamune are sentient. . .I don't think I revealed that yet, but if I did someone let me know so that I can make myself seem like less of an idiot - but the Hellplague's spirit hasn't shown itself to Link yet. _

_On a side note, if someone doesn't believe that I have made some mighty nasty and disturbing spelling errors in my life, listen to this; one time I was typing a Crystal Chronicals fic for a friend, and there was a scene where a Yuke (is that right? I can't remember. . .) and a elderly Clavat were having a conversation while having a drink of tea. _

_The line was supposed to read : 'And then Schmend looked up from sipping his tea. . .'_

_The line read : 'And then Schmend looked up from sipping his teat. . .'_

_My friend saw it and pointed it out and I haven't heard the end of it since. I accidently made it sound like the Being of Really Cruddy and Mismatched Armor was doing something nasty with the old man (and we're talking like wrinkly, grey hair, eighty year old old) and I just about had a heart attack, before then nearly bringing my lunch back up for a second hello._

_. . .Then I promptly wondered if the Yuke even _has_ a mouth._

_I still get the shivers when thinking about that one mistake. . ._

Eww. . .

_P.S - Someone asked if Link was becoming a low level Demon or a Prime Evil - well, you get your answer in this chapter. As things stand, if he doesn't fix himself, he might become a Prime Evil (Diablo isn't sure - this is still sort of an experiment for him)._


	62. Chapter LXI Den of Thieves Snippet new

_**Legend of Zelda : Trial of a Man**_

_Chapter LXI - Den of Thieves_

**xXx**

_A/N : This is just a snippet. More is to come, but I just wanted to show you guys that I am doing something. Check note at the bottom. :D_

_**A/N (NEW) - **__I added more on to the bottom of this snippet - another snippet. Again not spellchecked yet, and not much but hopefully enough to show you people that I am working on this and am slowly getting somewhere - this chapter is supremely important and if I don't do this right its gonna screw up the rest of the story forever. Now, it is coming along and those tough scenes are working out just fine, but I've still got some intermident scenes that I'm working on which do not want to be typed, but are still vital as they lead up to aforementioned important things. Expect an update soon - my inspiration has been off and on even as of late, however, I managed to get a few things actually worked out in my head, reworking some of my old theories (and realizing just how much editing and rewriting I'm going to have to do on this monster of a story) and its given me something to work with. Hopefully it holds._

**xXx**

With a little bit of fast, smooth talking, Sheik managed to get us into the stadium to watch the proceedings. Of course, they made us promise a few things - no throwing _anything_, not at Shanis _or_ her opponents, and definately _no_ interfering - but nothing was said about finding a way down into the area ourselves. And its not like they'll be seeing us anyway. Though, I doubt we'll do what we came to do (Sheik and I haven't even worked out our plan yet. It's on our to do list, I guess) without Shanis herself seeing us, but we won't be doing anything to help her unless we were right with our suspicions and something really _is_ gonna happen, in which case I don't really think she will be complaining.

The stadium is really quite. . .impressive. We were lead out a few miles into the desert off towards a small cluster of what appeared to hills, but really turned out to be an ancient looking temple built out of yellow sandstone the same color as the fortress and of the desert itself. The main body of the stadium is down a few halls and stairs, and though it is obviously underground, there are large slats in the ceiling, high up, and the sunlight drifts down lazily, warming these lower rooms more than the many torches on the walls could ever hope to do. Beautiful relief images of women (I'm assuming _Gerudo_ women) with snakes coiled around their wrists and in some cases, necks, decorates the walls.

We're walking around on a stone platform, almost, and while it reaches wall to wall for an incredible large viewing area, there are two sizeable holes in the floor, both with a network of stone beams crisscrossing overtop in a somewhat dome shape. A kind of safety thing, I guess, though even with just a quick glance, I can tell that there's still more than enough room to fall through. Leaning a little, I can see down and really, there's not that much to see. What light is going down there is only decorating the space with the same crisscross pattern of the beams.

_Other than than_, I scowl, _is nothing more than dirt._

A hand on my shoulder pulls me away from my observations, and I turn in time to see two Gerudo dressed in a golden orange walk right up to Shanis. She's a good twenty feet away and while I can tell she's not trying to be quiet, I can't quite make out what she's saying over the noise of everyone else in the room. There's just too many other people talking and muttering and laughing.

Sheik, hand not yet removed, leans forward a little until he's a little further ahead than beside me, frowning. I look at him, a frown forming on my face as well as I try to wonder just what it is that is going on. 

His lips are moving, but I can't hear him saying anything, so-

"There." A sliver of crimson glances at me from the corner of his eye, then back again to the three of them, "They're taking her down now. I think the Orange on the right is one of our conspiritors." He crosses his arms, frowning, still watching.

I stare back at Shanis and her little 'entorage', "Um, that _is_ if there is actually any conspiracy going on here. We _could _be wrong about all of this and just end up getting ourselves and Shanis in trouble, you know." As I watch, Shanis eyes meet mine for one brief second before darting back to the other two with her. Beside me, Sheik makes a sound of consternation.

"I doubt it, and besides, I'd rather be there and not have to do anything rather than be up here and watch her get mauled or something."

"True, but how on earth do you plan for us to be with her and not get seen? I'm sure that where ever the Trial actually takes place they'll be able to see our every move. What then?" I shift my weight and cross my arms, turning my eyes to him. 

Still staring ahead, he sighs, "From what I can tell, there's three stages to this Trial thing. They'll lead Shanis off, and the next we'll see her, she'll have to fight some Gerudos or something, right under us. We can watch her," he points towards the large openings in the floor, "Through there. After that, she'll continue forward, but I don't think we can actually view that part, or the part after. The second challenge I think is a maze or something. I suppose they have it closed to viewing so that she can't get any hints from the crowd, or that she can't track her progress by gauging her position by the room above her, either."

"After that?" I look back at Shanis, but she's already gone - and everybody else is moving towards the first of the openings, the one closest to the entrance.

"I haven't caught anyone talking about that - or at least, no one who's been facing me." When I give him a curious look, he elaborates, "Lip reading. I can't read their lips if they're facing the wrong way, and I doubt we can just walk around like we belong here."

"Oh." I pause, "You still haven't explained how we're supposed help Shanis. I still don't see how we're can get-"

"Shh!' He glares at me and I blink, surprised how he cut me off like that. I wait a second, confused, and am about to ask what that was all about when two Gerudo, one in red and one in green pass us by. I freeze, perfectly still, trying to act nonchalant but as they walk by me my eyes follow them, looking for any sign of suspicion.

"Okay, we're good." I face Sheik again; his voice suddenly goes quiet, "What we do is simple. When Shanis finishes her first fight, we jump down the first hole once everybody else moves to the second hole to watch."

I glance over my shoulder, checking in a manner I hope looks casual to make sure no one else is coming, "How the hell do you think we'll be able to do that?" I casually look over my other shoulder, "They'll see us enter the second room."

"Link, more time between glances - you look suspicious like that, and no they _won't _see us. They'll be too busy watching Shanis fight to see us enter, and once she's done and moved on, we should be able to sneak around the sides of the room and through the door down there. You've seen it, haven't you? Most of the rooms down there are dark - I think its supposed to add a kind of challenge to the whole thing, but it will be handy for our part in this."

"Yeah, but. . .Well, what if they notice us missing?" I ask, "And how the hell are we gonna get out?"

"Voice down," he mutters, and I cringe, feeling surprisingly chastised, ". . .I don't think they'll notice our absence - there's a lot of Gerudo here, and I think that most of them will just be too hyped to realize we're gone." His eyes, distant, scan the room, ". . .No one's even _watching_ us right now. . ."

"So. . .Again, how the heck are we supposed to get out once we're done?"

Sheik shrugs, ". . .We'll get there when we get there. Worse comes to worst, I can jump out and, I don't know, drop a rope for you or something."

I turn to him in shock, "That's it? That's your plan?"

He moves his head just enough to look at me with both eyes, "Well, you got to admit the rest of my plan isn't _that_ bad."

"Yeah," I mutter, sighing and shaking my head, "It's just the ass-half of your plan that sucks."

"I'd like to see you come up with something better. Either way, we better get into position. We'll move towards the hole - try to get right beside it if you can. As soon as Shanis is done the first fight and moves on to the second, everyone else should follow to the other hole and we'll slip in, simple like that. Alright?"

I nod.

_For once_,_ please say things will work out. Just for _once.

**xXx**

"Come now, Sister, you _must_ have something to eat."

"I'm sorry," Leona smiled softly, "I'm simply not hungry."

Her brother sighed, voicing his frustration, "You _know_ Father will be angry." He sighed, putting the bowl of soup down, running a hand through his hair - she couldn not see this, no, but it had become his custom as he grew older, his way of handling her illness and her quiet stubborness, ". . .You're looking so thin, Sister."

She smiled at him, a little more genuine this time, "I've always looked thin, to you."

"Well, you look worse, now - honestly, how _hard_ could it be to force a little food into yourself?" His tone was pleading and annoyed, but she did not mind, felt a little sheepish even as she felt his sudden regret for his words, and she found herself almost mouthing his next sentence. It was so predictable, "I'm sorry. . .I didn't mean it like that - I. . . I know this must be hard on you. . ."

The guilt in his words was palptable in the air itself.

Was there anything she could say?

"Do not concern yourself, Brother - I am fine." She paused, nodding her head, "Honestly."

He, too, nodded, before slowly rising from his seat, "If you say so, though if Father gets mad, _you_ get to explain to him just why I didn't give you any lunch, alright?" When she didn't reply he trudged off with a sigh, looking more like an old man than her younger brother. It as if there was a heavy weight atop his shoulders, and she watched as he disappeared into the next room, taking the bowl with him.

What she wouldn't give for a normal life - the ability to see life as it was meant to be seen, with colors and shapes and proper light and shadows, not this darkened mockery of vision and sight. She was so sick of seeing red and black and white and death and mayhem. . .Sometimes there were fleeting shadows of things beautiful and serene, but they never lingered long, before it was back to the blood and anguish.

As if summoned, a haze fell over her already darkened sight. They appeared before her eyes, slow at first, flickering weakly before solidifying. Had she known the device she would have compared it to the start of an old movie reel, and as the image solidified it sped up, the vision itself gaining depth and sound until it was undistinguishable from reality. . .

A horrible twisted view of what was yet to come. . .

_There's a man standing waist deep in blood. . .Link, its _Link_ - He looks so sad, staring at his hands, hands covered in blood. . .His eyes suddenly snap up to meet hers, bright blue eyes with sharp slit pupils - he looks _so_ scared, desperate and lonely and his gaze pleads with her for something she cannot understand. . ._

_The air around him is dark, twisting upon itself with hidden fury. . ._

_The Demon approaches, she realizes, its getting closer everyday, and the friendship of the Sheikah still is not enough to pull it back, to lock it away._

_But that's the strange thing - she cannot sense nor can she see the Sheikah. . .Did he abandon the Hero afterall?_

_There is a terrible sense of dread in the air - something dark and fearful - it tastes like sorrow, misery, and betrayal, yet somehow bittersweet. The thick sea of blood pushes and pulls like the real ocean, moving with its own unseen tide. So much blood. . ._

_Link's eyes eventually pull away from hers, and now his arms lay limp at his sides. He stares into the blood with a solemn gaze, as if hoping to find an answer. The sea around him slowly draws back, the level dropping until its near his knees, though she knows that this is not a sign of good things to come. . ._

_. . .A wave, huge and tall, forms behind the Hero; preparing to crush him under its immense weight._

_She knows that _he_ knows it is coming, but he does not fight, does not even turn to look._

_One of her hands is reaching forward, reaching out to scream and call his name - _the rising tide is falling -_- but suddenly a presence stirs, dark and full of lingering curousity. The wave stops mid motion, and as the touch of the dark presence scours over the vision, the sea settles instantly, returning to its previous calm motions, falling unnaturally. The darkness watches with a curious eye, hidden in the haze of black around her._

_It feels like she is being watched from every angle._

_**Who. . .?**_

_The voice is strong and brave and it reeks of old, dead malice - it seems to echo in the blackness, hollow and disembodied. A the sound of the voice, Link again looks up - his movements sharp and almmost painful, and he too scans their surroundings, looking. Searching. Something here is different, wrong - this isn't just some image, some glimpse into the future - somehow, the boundries between illusions and reality are blurring. . .As if this vision somehow went from exactly that, an illusion, to becoming real--_

_The presence suddenly intensifies, and she can feel its hate._

_**You're not **_**supposed**_** to be **_**here. . .**

_Apparently, she isn't - she's being kicked out of her own vision - the world around her starts to fade, slowly, flickering and _slowing down_, and the last image she sees before the black and red hell dies out is the images of a purple-ish ocarina, the symbol of Hyrule etched in gold on its side laying broken amongst the jagged rocks._

The world spins.

**xXx**

_A/N - Obviously not spell checked or anything yet, and this is obviously a very small part of a chapter that is so big that I had to split it into three separate sections, which is saying something seeing as I've had chapters of like 60-100kb before (I think, anyways). Its actually coming along nicely, as I actually have inspiration, and I'll probably even put up a concept art kinda drawing of the above mentioned room on my Devart account, too. Its an important room, of sorts, I suppose. Future parts of the story will involve the Trial area, so it might be a good idea to show what that room (and other important ones) look like. :P I don't know. I'll working on it, but its been years since I took perception art in High School._

_If you see anything that is contradictory to anything else that I've written in the story, please point it out in a review or something. Also, just a note, if you sign in for a review with a snippet, when the actual chapter comes along, it won't let you have another signed in review (excuse my sudden inability to articulate) so, you might want to do it as an anonymous review. I don't know._

_Other than that, um, sorry bout the wait and with any luck, the chapter should be up soon. Like in a few days or something. And thanks for all the reviews you guys:D They give me inspiration. :)_

_NOTE: This is only a snippet, and it may undertake changes in the final version of the chapter. Any input you can give (such as, "you use this word to much" or "what the $#& does THAT mean?") would be of great assistance. Thank you!_

_**A/N - **__As the note at the top of the screen indicates, this is an additon on to the original snippet - just to show you guys _I LIVE_ and I'm not giving up on this thing cause I love it, despite its wrongness and re-occuring inconsistencies. Playing Brawl has also helped to fuel my intrests (I love how they made Sheik move, but I don't like the braid thing or the lack of strength of most of his special moves - his smashes, however, rock) and I expect to tinker with Sheik's fighting style and add it into this story. Yeah. Back on topic, however, I am working on this chapter and TO GOD I hope it won't take much longer. Plz read the previous A/N (the new one at the top of the screen I mean) for more info._


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